


Nurse Who Loved Me

by idiom



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 1850s, Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Comfort/Angst, Doctor/Patient, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, References to Suicide, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[1850s Asylum AU]</p><p>Enjolras takes over the direction of an Asylum on the outskirts of Paris after a series of scandals surrounding the facility found the previous director imprisoned. In his first days, one patient in particular catches his interest. Grantaire is different from the others and, for better or worse, Enjolras finds himself drawn to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm taking him home with me

Nurse Who Loved Me

Part I

-o-

_I'm taking her home with me all dressed in white_

_She's got everything I need some pills in a little cup_

_She's falling hard for me I can see it in her eyes_

_She acts just like a nurse with all the other guys_

The Nurse Who Loved Me ~ Failure

-o-

The asylum wasn't an unhappy place. It wasn't desolate or colourless or in ill repair. It was actually quite beautiful. The sun lit the halls through high arched windows of the building that looked from the outside as if it had once housed a king. In fact it had, the building was one of the royals old getaway 'cottages', but that was before the revolution. Though they were gone, the royals' luxuries and riches still decorated the halls.

No, the asylum wasn't an unhappy place. It just wasn't a happy place either.

The good repair of the building was a stark contrast to the brokenness of its patients. People only came to the asylum when they were broken. And, whether by circumstance or biology, they were all broken - some with wider cracks than others.  

As he paced the halls, Enjolras observed the many patients floating in and out of the halls. They were his patients now; he wore the long white coat over his fine suit that proclaimed him a doctor. It had hardly been a day since he'd been suddenly named as the new director of the asylum. The former director and former doctor, Brevet, had been fingered for his involvement in an embezzlement scandal along with smuggling of medications intended for patients. It was simple justice that he'd be spending the next twenty years in prison, if the old man lived that long.

Enjolras tried not to sneer. He wasn't a cruel man, by nature, but something about Brevet had always angered him. He was happy to see justice done.

Enjolras's wandering led him to the common area, when had once been a great ballroom was now simply a space where the majority of the patients congregated. There were several nurses, men and women, some helping the older or less able patients to move or other simply chatting with them about their day. Everyone was occupied apart from one figure in the corner. He sat in a chair looking out the window, only the back of his head and a mop of messy black curls visible to Enjolras.

He walked around the edge of the room, his eyes not leaving the boy until he could see his profile. There was a desk at the edge of the room where Joly was sitting, quietly overseeing the patients and staff. Enjolras stopped in him.

“Joly, who is that boy?” he asked, nodding towards the still figure in the corner.

Joly looked up from his paperwork. His eyes followed Enjolras’ and he frowned.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t had a chance to speak with everyone yet,” Joly said with a shrug. “He seems to be day dreaming; I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

Enjolras side-eyed his comrade. He and Joly had trained as a doctor at the same school. Joly had graduated top of their class and was more than capable of handling affairs at the hospital. In fact, if it weren’t for his mild neurosis he would probably be running the place with Enjolras working under him and not the other way around. Like Enjolras, Joly had only just started working at the asylum and they were all too happy to have him. The deeper the police investigation into Brevet’s case ran the more people were found to for implicated. Enjolras decided that he wouldn’t be surprised if the entire staff was eventually replaced; nurses, cleaners, the lot.

“That boy hasn’t moved since I arrived,” Joly noted, tilting his head to one side as he observed the patient who’d piqued Enjolras’ interest. “Though, I’m glad to be honest; the ones who enjoy a good romp around track all kinds of things all over the place. One girl decided to take a roll in the pond earlier, can you imagine the germs,” he murmured this more to himself than to Enjolras and shuddered. It made Enjolras chuckled a bit.

“Could you find out who he is and bring me his file, when you have the time?” he asked. “I’m going to continue with rounds, but I’ll be in my office later.”

“I’ll leave it on your desk.” Joly waved the arrangement without even looked back up at Enjolras and went back to his paperwork.

Enjolras said his thanks and with one last look towards the corner of the room, he turned to exit the hall to continue making his way around the asylum.

-o-

It wasn’t until after the patients were all sat down in the dining hall for their dinner that Enjolras had a chance to slip away. He took the moment to stop by his office and get some work done. He passed through the doors that had once led to the King’s private study, now a mere filing room.

As he reached his desk, Enjolras noticed the file placed neatly atop the layers of documents and half filled out paperwork. He frowned down at it and stooped over his desk to flip it open. The file read:

_Name: Grantaire Thénardier. Hair colour: Black. Eye colour: blue. Age committed: 25. Height-_

Enjolras lifted the file and sat back in his chair. After the long day, he had completely forgotten that he’d asked Joly to find him this patient’s file.

Grantaire Thénardier. Enjolras knew of that surname. The Thénardiers owned a popular hotel and bar near Paris in Montfermeil. It wasn’t a particularly well-reputed establishment, but the Thénardiers were a family that tried to give the impression of being members of the bourgeoisie. He supposed that Grantaire could be their eldest son.

But why commit him to an asylum on the outskirts of the city when there was a fine hospital much closer to Montfermeil in Paris?

Enjolras flipped through the file and found very little to explain it. Grantaire was listed as having symptoms of depression and alcoholism. They were serious problems, yes, but to be put in an asylum? Nothing in his file suggested any suicidal tendencies or that he was causing any damage to himself or others (except for the damage to his liver that would probably not be worrisome for another decade). This was a place for those who had reached a point where they couldn’t take care of themselves. The halls were filled with the elderly whose minds were slipping and those who had suffered traumas or were born with some malady their families couldn’t deal with alone. Any patient with Grantaire’s conditions was usually quickly rehabilitated and sent on their way within a few months, but according to Grantaire’s file he’d already been living at the asylum for the better part of a year.

Enjolras set the file down and stared at its blank cover with his elbows on the table, hands folded under his chin. ‘What to do?’ he thought to himself. He made a plan to speak to Grantaire first thing when he got in the next morning. The boy’s case intrigued him so, but Enjolras couldn’t exactly say why.

-o-

The next morning found Enjolras sitting in the hall at the desk occupied by Joly the day before. He watched Grantaire from across the room, not yet pushing himself to speak with the boy. Grantaire was seated in the same chair as the day before, looking out that same window. It almost seemed as though he hadn't moved from the day before.

"Excuse me, nurse," Enjolras waved the tired looking woman over. With an exasperated sigh, she came toward him and when ushered set the tray of medicine she was carrying down on the desk in front of him.

"Is there a problem, Doctor?" She asked, exasperation heavy in her tone.

Enjolras looked over the little paper cups and their labels and the pills inside them. "Monsieur Thénardier. Are you giving him that?” Enjolras asked rhetorically, pointing to his labeled cup. “Those are for psychopathy... and these for paranoia. Monsieur Thénardier is here because of depression and a drink problem.”

The nurse blinked looking unsure of how to respond. "Doctor Brevet prescribed this before he was forced to retire." She replied politely, though Enjolras was sure she wasn't to pleased about his tone of accusation.

“He is not _Doctor_ Brevet any longer and do you truly think that this amount medication is appropriate for someone with this patient’s condition?” When the nurse simply stared at him with a miffed look that said ‘I just hand out the pills’, Enjolras shook his head. "I am un-prescribing these immediately. Until I or Doctor Joly has reassessed Monsieur Thénardier, he doesn’t need any of this." With that said took the little cup of pills from her tray and walked over to where Grantaire was sitting. The boy, hardly a man, was pale and completely zoned out. He didn’t even move as Enjolras approached him.

"Monsieur Thénardier?” He didn’t receive an immediate response from the young man, so he tried again. “Grantaire?"

Upon hearing his name, Grantaire seemed to waken to reality. He looked over to Enjolras, slightly unfocused blue eyes shining from behind unkempt curls. "Hello, nurse," he greeted with a tired smile. Enjolras chuckled at that.

“I’m a doctor actually,” he replied.

Grantaire’s smile instantly dropped. “Oh.”

Enjolras was sure how to take the expression. He cleared his throat and crouched down next to Grantaire and held out the little cup containing his medication. “Are these your pills?” he asked.

“Oh, thank you.” Grantaire went to reach for them only to have the pills pulled away from him.

“No, Grantaire.” Enjolras leaned back slightly. “Do you know why you’re taking them?”

Grantaire stared at him blankly. Enjolras was fairly certain he’d already been heavily dosed that morning. After a moment’s hesitation, the boy nodded slowly as if he’d been hypnotized.

Enjolras looked down at the five pills. Two were for the treatment of only the most severe cases of depression, one helped regulate sleep patterns, one was for paranoia and the last for psychosis. All had undesirable side effects. Looking at Grantaire, he couldn’t see why anyone would prescribe such heavy medication, so he asked, “How do these make you feel, Monsieur Thénardier?”

Grantaire again simply stared at him with no emotion. “Numb,” he replied quietly.

“Numb?” Enjolras frowned. “To sensation? Pain?”

“To everything.”

Enjolras let out a breath. Grantaire’s whispered reply had him looking down to assess the medication once more. There were two options in this situation: he could assume that the boy did indeed suffer the ailments that his prescription treated and leave him on the medication, or he could take Grantaire off the medication and closely monitor his condition.

Numb to everything.

“I don’t want you taking these anymore,” Enjolras decided quickly.

Grantaire reached for the cup slowly once more. “But-”

“I’m your doctor, trust me,” Enjolras said, cutting him off. “You don’t need them and soon you’ll feel better without.”

Grantaire looked puzzled and slightly upset as Enjolras pulled away from him, but he nodded.

“Alright, now I am setting up an appointment for you with Doctor Joly tomorrow morning. He will come find you.” Again Enjolras only got a weary nod from his patient. “I’ll see you later, hmm?” he said, trying to smile in the hope of cheering the boy up, but all he got in return was a confused stare and yet another silent nod.

Worrisome.

-o-

The next day Enjolras was seated at his desk in the grand office going over patient files. It was late in the afternoon when Joly came to him. The other doctor was waving a report file as he stepped through the door. Across the top in Joly's neat penmanship Grantaire's name had been carefully scrawled.

“I’ve met with our special case, the medication is starting to leave his system, but he says he’s only having some discomfort, but he’s a quiet one. If Brevet actually thought the boy was in need of any of that snake oil then he should have had his license to practice medicine revoked long before now.”

“Yes, I spoke with a friend of mine on the police force, Combeferre, and he in turn spoke with inspector Javert,” Enjolras tapped his desk near to where he had placed the little cup filled with Grantaire’s medication. “The boy is from a marginally wealthy family and they don't often check up on him. It seems Brevet was awarded bonuses from the manufacturer for selling these pills.” Enjolras shook his head. “I think it was Molier who said: ‘Nearly all men die of their medicines, not of their diseases’. It’s good we got him off that medication as soon as we could. ”

Joly huffed. “How utterly irresponsible of Brevet. Giving the boy such things.”

“Well, yes, the man is in prison now, Joly.”

“Good.” Joly nodded. “Now, the patient, Grantaire, he’s going to go through a bit more rebound before his body balances itself back out. I’ll see him in the mornings, but you should check on his status nightly if possible.” Joly handed Enjolras the bound log of Grantaire’s files.

“I’ll be sure to check in on him specially before leaving. Thank you, Joly.”

Enjolras didn’t try to make conversation with Grantaire as he suffered through the withdrawal from the psychosis medications. But he suffered well. He sat in his favourite spot on his favourite chair, but he was no longer still as he once had been. His body convulsed with pained shuddering and he was sick several times a day. Over the week, these seizures grew less and less severe, but still part of Enjolras was worried that his young patient would blame him - blame him for taking away the numbness that masked the pain. So, he chose to watch Grantaire’s condition slowly improve from afar.

As Joly had instructed, each night before leaving Enjolras checked in on Grantaire. Unlocking the door and taking a few steps into the spartan room. Each night found the boy fast asleep, his dark lashes lowered to pale cheeks and his black curls spread around him stark against the white sheets.

Everything was going smoothly until one night two full weeks since his revocation of Grantaire’s prescription. The evening started like any other. Enjolras passed through the halls on his way to check on Grantaire in his room. He reached the boy’s door and was about to pull out his keys to unlock it when he touched the handle and he found that it turned easily. The door was already open.

Suddenly, there was a sharp cry and the sound of a struggle from behind inside. The sounds drew Enjolras' attention away from the unlocked door. He frowned and just listened for a moment.

“You’re not usually so spry,” he heard a deep unfamiliar voice chuckle. There was more struggling and then a dull smack followed by a grunt. “Tsk. Stay still, mon petit.”

“Let me go!” He could hear that was Grantaire, crying out, practically sobbing. “Please, no. Stop!”

Enjolras burst through the door without another thought. He came upon a disgusting scene. Grantaire had been stripped of his nightshirt and was thrashing naked on his bed. There was an older man on top of him, straddling his legs holding him down to the bed. Enjolras recognised him as Félix Tholomyès, one of the night shift orderlies. Félix hadn’t even noticed his entrance; he continued to murmur obscenities as he reached into his loose pants.

Enjolras was enraged. Immediately, he was at the bed with a fist balled in the back of the Félix’s shirt. He pulled the orderly off the bed and threw him to the floor.

Félix struggled to stand and moved for the door. When Enjolras stopped him with his fist still gripped in the back of his collar, Félix threw a punch. Enjolras dodged it easily, and pushed Félix back. The man tripped over the carpet and landed back against the wall, hitting his head with a sickening crack. Even so, Enjolras could see he was going to try to stand again and either run or attack. It didn't matter. He reached for the metal lamp on Grantaire’s nearby desk. Without giving a single thought to alternatives, he slammed the round base into Félix’s head, knocking the man out cold.

The room fell silent. Only the sound of Enjolras’ laboured breaths filled the void. The doctor stumbled back a few steps, away from Félix’s immobile form.

Grantaire sat on his bed in shock. He stared at his unconscious attacker for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he spat at the ground near Félix’s limp body.

Enjolras turned to him then, his surprise unhidden. He approached Grantaire, removing his white coat and wrapping it over the young man’s too thin shoulders. Without speaking, Enjolras led Grantaire from the room and locked the door behind them, just in case of in the unlikely event that Félix woke up he would not be able to make a run for it.

They were barely ten paces from the room when another orderly passed across the hall in front of them. He seemed shocked by both Enjolras and Grantaire’s states of disarray. “Is everything alright, Doctor?”

“Fetch the police!” There was a misplaced fury in Enjolras when he shouted this order. And when the orderly didn't move immediately he yelled, "Now!"

-o-

For a moment Grantaire thought an angel had rescued him. The light from the open door lit his saviour from behind, golden hair shining like a halo. But as Grantaire watched his saviour brawl with Félix, the image of his angelic savior was replaced with that of a wrathful god.

Everything was a blur after that. He was brought to a luxurious room he'd never been in. The god sat him on a couch and buttoned the white jacket he'd thrown over him earlier. He must have been one of the nurses, come to watch over him in the night.

-o-

The police turned up at midnight, led into the room by the orderly from before. Enjolras patted the young man's shoulder in thanks.

"Enjolras," one of the officers called out in greeting as he pushed past the others crowded into the office.

Catching sight of the man, Enjolras let out a sigh of relief. "Combeferre, thank you for coming."

They clasped hands companionably.

Combeferre too notice of the small figure huddled up on the couch and nodded towards him. "Who's this?"

"Grantaire Thénardier, the reason for your presence this night. He was attacked."

Combeferre hummed. "And his attacker?"

"Come," Enjolras ushered Combeferre and his men out of the room. As an afterthought he turned back to the orderly. "Stay with the boy." The orderly nodded and they left the room

-o-

The unconscious man only groaned as Combeferre nudged him with his foot.

“Was that necessary?” he asked, gesturing to the bloody swelling growing across the side of Félix’s face.

“Yes.” Enjolras near hissed out the word. And well deserved, he added mentally.

Combeferre smirked at him and yielded. “I will tell the inspector it was an act of self defense. How is your damsel in distress?”

Enjolras bit back a scoff at his friend’s poorly judged humour. “He can’t stay here, he’s going through withdrawal from all the meds the last doctor prescribed. This place,” Enjolras shook his head, "it's not good for him."

“Well, we can take him to the precinct.” Combeferre suggested, scratching his chin.

“With his attacker?" Enjolras scoffed. "Do you really think that sort of environment it good for someone in his condition either?”

“Do you have somewhere else in mind? Please enlighten me on this mysterious safe house you've prepared," Combeferre drawled.

Enjolras took a deep breath and looked down at the panicked young man in his arms. “I’ll take him home with me,” he said.

Combeferred side-eyed him. “Inspector Javert won’t like it if he finds out.”

“Please, Combeferre. After all he’s been through. I don’t want to see him relapse.” Ejolras grimaced at the thought of leaving Grantaire to any of the alternatives.

Combeferre seemed hesitant about this, but slowly he nodded. He looked to his men at the door. “Take that piece of filth to a cell and book him. Enjolras.” he turned back to his friend. “I’ll be joining you to get a statement from the victim. Routine practice.”

Enjolras nodded. “Of course, that’s fine.” He ushered Combeferre back out of the room while his men dealt with the criminal.

They returned to the office where the orderly from before was sitting with Grantaire. Enjolras thanked him and sent him on his way to do rounds. Grantaire was back to being lucid as ever, he sat frozen as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"What's wrong with this one?" Combeferre asked.

Enjolras sighed at the insensitivity but answered his friend anyway. "I don't know. Nothing to warrant him being here as far as I've seen."

"Huh." Combeferre shrugged and turned and made his way towards the door. "I'll wait for you in my carriage,” he called out with his back to him. “My officers will deal with the rest of this mess." With that said, he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

Enjolras watched him leave before turning his attention back to Grantaire. He crouched in front of the boy. "Grantaire? We're going to leave here, alright?"

The boy looked up at him. Slowly one pale hand came to touch Enjolras cheek; it made the doctor jump slightly in surprise before it slid away tiredly.

Grantaire huffed out a weak laugh. He got up, trying to stand on shaky legs.

Enjolras was just fast enough to catch him as he keeled over. "Careful! Are you not able to walk?"

"Can't..." Grantaire choked out hoarsely. He cleared his throat and shook his head. The moment he had gotten to his feet, the colour had completely drained from his face.

"I'm going to carry you out, is that okay?" Enjolras waited a moment, but the boy didn't raise any objections. Carefully he swept one arm under Grantaire's legs and held him to his breast. The boy was light as a feather, which was worrisome in and of itself.

Enjolras carried Grantaire outside to where Combeferre was waiting, enjoying a cigarette by his carriage. Combeferre eyed them with a tight smirk. They made quite the image: Enjolras carrying Grantaire out of the palace-like building bridal style, the doctor’s large white coat draped around the boy’s smaller form, hanging off him like an ersatz veil.

"How fares the blushing bride?" He joked, as he stamped the butt of his cigarette out on one of the carriage’s metal spokes.

"Now is not the time," Enjolras replied bluntly.

Combeferre opened the carriage door. “Did you move with this job?”

“No, still in the same place.”

Combeferre nodded. He cast a pitiful look towards Grantaire before closing the door behind them. “Driver!” Enjolras heard him shout. Outside Combeferre gave the man at the front of the carriage directions.

He wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s shivering form in an effort to warm him. Enjolras wouldn’t have been surprised if the boy were in shock from the events of the evening. He brought a hand up to touch Grantaire’s cheek. The boy was freezing. It was a February night, and Grantaire’s skin was as cold as the thin layer of frost that covered the grass outside.

“I should find him some clothes, before we leave,” Enjolras said to Combeferre as the man hopped into the carriage and sat across from him.

Combeferre opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when the driver spurred the horses and the carriage jerked into movement.

“You’ll have to borrow him some of yours.”

Enjolras looked to Grantaire. He was so thin. Enjolras was made to wonder if their predecessor at the asylum even cared to make sure his patients ate. What was for certain, his clothes would not fit Grantaire in this state, but they would do.

-o-

The short carriage ride brought them to a suburb outside Paris. Enjolras lived at the top floor of a luxurious apartment just off the Seine. It was expensive but nothing he couldn't afford on a doctor's salary. Once inside, together Enjolras and Combeferre took Grantaire into the guestroom. Enjolras stepped out and waited out in his sitting room with a cup of tea.

“I took the liberty of telling the boy he could use the bed to get some rest,” Combeferre said as he came back down the hall. He was staring at his notebook even as he spoke to Enjolras, but looked up and snapped it she after a moment. “Apparently he has a sister who lives nearby here and would visit him regularly. It’s late, but I’m going try and find her tonight yet. Expect a knock at your door.”

Enjolras nodded. With a heavy breath, he stood and went to shake Combeferre hand as his old friend readied himself to leave. “Thank you, Combeferre. I’ll be glad to meet with you again soon under less regrettable circumstances.”

Combeferre squeezed his hand and shot him a melancholy smile. He replaced his bicorne atop his head and they said their goodbyes.

Combeferre stepped out the door and Enjolras let his expression grow sombre as it closed. He put the dishes from his tea away before going down the hall to his own room to find clothes that might fit Grantaire. There were a few things in his closet that would work, clothes from years ago that he’d been too prudent to give away. He collect the items and went back down the hall to Grantaire’s room, but knocking on the door he received no answer.

Enjolras opened the door slowly and stepped inside to see Grantaire in bed laying half awake under the covers. The boy sat up slightly, just to see who had entered, and the blanket slipped off his bare shoulders and down his chest. It was only then that Enjolras noticed his white coat had been haphazardly thrown over a nearby chair. Grantaire was completely naked.

“Ah... Clothes.” He said, gesturing with the small pile of fabric he carried. “You should rest for now, but you’ll need them when you wake.” Enjolras paused. “Combeferre tells me your sister is coming for you.”

Grantaire didn’t comment. In fact, his expression was completely unreadable. He just stared at Enjolras.

“Right,” Enjolras stood awkwardly in the silence for a moment. “I’ll just put these here.” He placed the laundry on the chair and as an afterthought picked up his coat.Grantaire was still staring at him as he made to leave. With a sigh, Enjolras turned shot the boy his best bed-side smile.

“Rest,” he said softly. “You’re safe here.”

Enjolras watched Grantaire snuggle back under the blankets before he stepped out of the guest room, closing the door quietly behind him. He paced the hall for a moment before walking back to his kitchen. The tea wasn’t nearly good enough to relax him, he needed a real drink.

In the kitchen, Enjolras pulled a bottle of wine out off a rack and uncorked it. He took a sniff and was about to reach for a glass, but with a tired shrug he took a swig straight from the bottle. His mind was racing over the nights events. How had it come to this? How did he end up with a beautiful young man naked in his guest room.

Enjolras groaned and took another swig, as he thought on what the boy had gone through that evening.

He made a surprised noise with his lips around the bottle when not a second later the doorbell rang. Slamming the cork back into the bottle with the palm of one hand, he left the kitchen to go answer the door.

Enjolras opened it and was greeted with the sight of a lovely if not seemingly exhausted young woman. She had dressed haphazardly but well in a green and violet number and her long brunette hair had been pinned up beneath a matching hat.

“Madame Thénardier?” Enjolras guessed.

“Doctor Enjolras, I presume?" She guessed in return. Her lips curled into a little smirk. "Please call me Éponine or else it's Madamoiselle. Madame Thénardier is my tiresome mother.”

Enjolras nodded and watched as Éponine unpinned and removed the small hat atop her head with the grace of a refined lady. She had the air of a bourgeois, but in such an obvious way that the front was apparently; she was a Thénardier.

“I was told my brother has found himself a champion in you, Monsieur Doctor,” she said, eyeing him with some curiosity.

“Enjolras, please. And I would not put it so. Do come in.” Enjolras stood aside to allow the young woman entry into the flat. “Your brother is resting, so you may wait in my sitting room while I rouse him.”

“Yes.” Éponine sat down on a settee in the livingroom. “But before that... would you tell me the details of this assault. Your man with the police, he refused to disclose that information and I’m lucky to get a single forthright sentence out of my brother at the best of times.” She looked to Enjolras pointedly. "I want to know what happened this night."

“I-” Enjolras couldn’t start. He hesitantly joined her in sitting down. “It would not be appropriate for a lady’s ears,” he said in excuse.

Éponine’s dark eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” she pressed, with venom in her tone. “Who assaulted my brother and what was done to him?”

Enjolras ran his hand over his face before he hesitantly ushered Éponine to a couch in his sitting room. “They have the man in custody, an older man... an orderly at the asylum, Félix Tholomyès,” he hoped the man's capture would reassure her.

Éponine nodded slowly. “But I don’t understand. Grantaire, he's not in hospital, so he wasn’t hurt, am I correct?” she asked worriedly.

Enjolras took a shuddering breath. “When I came upon them in your brother's room, Félix had... removed your brother’s clothing and,” he paused, not really wanting to relive that moment, “he was holding Grantaire to the bed while... while he seemed to be trying to remove his own trousers.”

Éponine’s eyes were wide and one gloved hand covered her mouth. “And my brother? What of Grantaire?”

“I was able to throw Félix off him before the man could-” Enjolras stopped as he saw Éponine shaking her head, urging him not to go on with a wave of her hand. “I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Éponine. The ward was in the hands of a corrupt man, we are still trying to undo his work.”

“I do not blame you, Doctor. This villain who attacked my brother, he...” Éponine paused for a moment. “He had worked there long?”

Enjolras didn’t want to admit it. He had only been working at the asylum for a week; Félix Tholomyès had been working there for years. There was no telling how many victims he’d left in his wake before being caught that night. How many times... “It is possible that this wasn’t the first attack.”

Éponine’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. She shook her head again and, looking away, took a shuddering breath. “Our parents sent him to that place to get well,” she whispered.

Enjolras couldn’t think of anything else so all he said was, “I’m sorry.”

They sat together in a silence accented only by Éponine's deep shaky breaths as she tried to calm herself. After a short while the quiet sound of a door opening down the hall drew their attention. A second later Grantaire wandered into the room. He was dressed in Enjolras’ clothes, a red striped vest and black trousers. Even in the too large clothes and with sleep mussed hair he looked positively debonair compared to before; although Enjolras couldn’t help but imagine he would look even better in green.

Grantaire froze at the threshold before the living room door. “Éponine?” he said sounding groggy and more than a little surprised.

“Grantaire!” Éponine stood from the couch and rushed to embrace her brother. “Oh darling, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you put in that horrible place, never.” She sobbed, pressing kisses to his stubbled cheeks.

Grantaire leaned away from her with a noise that spoke of annoyance.

Éponine turned back to Enjolras, still holding Grantaire's hands tightly clasped in her own. "Thank you so much, Doctor."

Enjolras stood from his seat and nodded. He looked from Éponine to Grantaire, but the young man didn't meet his gaze. "I'll show you both out. Will you be alright getting home?"

Éponine nodded. "My house isn't far from here, and the officer is waiting to walk us back."

Enjolras almost smiled at that. He mentally applauded Combeferre for his ever present diligence in doing his duty. "Good night then, Madamoiselle Thénardier."

"Doctor," Éponine nodded and left the house in front of her brother.

"Farewell, Grantaire." Enjolras said as he was about to pass.

Grantaire stopped short of exiting and finally looked up at him, his stunning blue eyes meeting Enjolras' own.

"Thank you." He said with a sober nod. He eyed Enjolras with slight suspicion that the doctor couldn’t place before he followed his sister down the stairs.

Enjolras closed his door behind them. He ran his hand over his face and let out a heavy, tired sigh. In the morning he would be back at the hospital. He would need to speak with all the staff about the night before - possibly interview them, possibly fire some of them, possibly hire more staff. Thoughts of Grantaire troubled him, but he needed to sleep no matter how hard it would be to come by.

-o-


	2. A stranger

Nurse Who Loved Me

Part II

-o-

_And I listen for the whisper of your sweet insanity_

_While I formulate denials of your effect on me_

_You’re a stranger so what do I care?_

A Stranger ~ A Perfect Circle

-o-

"I went into Paris to have lunch with mother and father," Éponine started carefully. It had been nearly a full week since the attack and Grantaire had slept on the armchair in her living room ever since then. In fact he'd barely moved from the spot save to look through her cupboards for wine. Éponine had already restocked twice, though she didn’t know why she bothered. Subconsciously she thought he would leave if she didn’t.

"Let me guess, mother and father are only too pleased with the apparent waste of their hard earned money." Grantaire half scoffed into the top of his bottle. “Or do they think I was thrown out of the asylum for being uncooperative?”

Éponine sighed. "They're upset that you're not well."

" _Not cured,_ you mean." Grantaire laughed humorlessly. He caressed the bottle in his hands almost lovingly, well, with as much love as he had ever shown anything in a while. "Well, you know what they say about old habits." 

Éponine watched her brother take another long swig of wine with a worried expression, but she did not comment on it directly. "They wanted me to bring you back to the asylum... commit you again.”

Grantaire’s hand stilled on the bottle. He was completely silent for a long time; Éponine thought for a moment he'd even stopped breathing. She took a deep breath for them both. 

“I told them you would be staying with me,” she said.

Grantaire nodded, trying to seem nonchalant. “And? I assume they had something to say about that,” he muttered.

Éponine let out a long sigh. She took a seat across from her brother. “They did, but I told them it wasn’t a good place for you.”

“Why?”

Éponine frowned. “You know why.”

Grantaire tittered drunkenly to himself.

"You need to talk about..."

"No.” Grantaire cut her off abruptly with a sudden stern tone. Éponine barely caught it; in a blink his impishness returned. “You need to talk about it. I'm fine."

Éponine let out a frustrated sound. "Stop saying you're fine. You're obviously not fine, Grantaire."

"There are others much worse off. At least I have a roof over my head and wine in my belly," Grantaire said with a shrug. 

Éponine rolled her eyes at that, but she knew that she couldn’t be too upset. She had just taken it upon herself to care for her vicious lush of a brother and care for him she would. 

"I want you to come with me when I go see Montparnasse tomorrow,” she ordered, changing the subject. “His cousin will be joining us. She’s lovely and I want you to meet her."

Grantaire couldn't stop himself from mimicking his sister's earlier eye rolling. "Oh yes. How is you man, Monsieur Montparnasse?"

Éponine scoffed at his sarcastic tone. "If you do not care, don't ask."

Genuinely offended, Grantaire frowned up at her. "I do care!"

"You don't care about anything."

"Fine! I am a horrible person! Why keep me here?!" Grantaire shouted suddenly. "If I'm such a burden-"

"Grantaire, stop it!" Éponine tried to calm herself before she continued. She took a deep breath. “Stop. Just... just say you’ll come tomorrow. You need to get some air anyway. You haven’t left the house once since you got here!” 

Grantaire went quiet again. He took another swig from his bottle as Éponine stood there waiting for his reply. 

“Fine.”

-o-

Lunch the next afternoon was just a horrible as Grantaire suspected it would be. Montparnasse’s cousin, Toussaint, was a soft, stuttering little bird; shy in a manner that would be endearing to most men. But Grantaire was not most men. He had no interest in little girls or tea or midday walks along the Seine. When he had the chance, he slipped away from them as they walked down a busy street. 

Grantaire found his way into a tavern on the rivers edge and it wasn’t long before he’d lost count of the number of drinks he’d had or how much coin he’d parted with. For a while he even slept, passed out on one of the sticky bars. It was getting dark by the time he started to sober. He knew he couldn’t return home. Éponine would have his head, or worse, she’d pity him and simply help him to bed.

Grantaire ran his fingers through his hair miserably. 

Maybe just one more drink.

Yes. One more drink. After that he could figure out what to do.

-o-

There was a knock at the door. 

Enjolras placed the book he'd been reading down on the tea table in front of him, leaving it open to save his page. He stood and looked over to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was just past eleven thirty. He frowned as he wondered who that would be at his door in the middle of the night. After a long day of work, Enjolras didn’t usually have visitors and he wasn't expecting anyone, but it would be just like Marius to show up unannounced intent on bringing news back for his grandfather.

With a sigh, Enjolras prepared himself mentally for that tediousness and opened the door. The sharp words he had prepared for Mairus caught on the tip of his tongue. He stared, confused at his caller.

“Monsieur Thénardier?” If Enjolras were to say he was shocked, that would have been an understatement at the very least.

Grantaire ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the mess of black curls away from his face for only a moment before they all fell back into place. He gazed at Enjolras, his glee-filled, blue eyes alight even through that shock of dark hair. “Oh please, Monsieur Thénardier is my father.”

Enjolras would have laughed at Grantaire’s reiteration of his sister’s words from the week before if he weren’t so surprised by his unannounced presence at the door. “Grantaire?” he tried again.

“You remember me!” The younger man cheered. “Though, I never caught your name, Monsieur...”

“Enjolras,” he replied automatically. Sniffing the air, he swore he could smell something like liquorice heavy on Grantaire’s breath. Either he’d stopped by a sweet shop or... _Absinthe_. “Are you drunk?” 

Grantaire tittered, an obvious yes. He stumbled through the door and Enjolras had to catch him lest he trip over his own feet.

"Grantaire," Enjolras sighed. “You shouldn't be drinking; You're still recovering and... how did you find you way back to my house?”

Grantaire laughed like it was a stupidest question. “I stole the directions from my sisters address book a long while ago, just in case.” He looked around, impressed. “You seem to live a happy and luxurious life for a wifeless man.”

Enjolras didn’t respond to the insinuation and wasn’t even going to ask what ‘just in case’ was supposed to mean. “Monsieur Grantaire, what are you doing here?” he demanded, ignoring any of the boy’s obvious fishing. 

“I thought you might be lonely, monsieur Enjolras,” Grantaire purred drunkenly. 

“Lonely?” Enjolras repeated with an amused laugh. That laugh came out sounding a lot more self deprecating than he would have liked. Grantaire confused Enjolras, not only with his words, but with the way he draped himself over Enjolras like so many of the ladies in the street draped themselves over men who looked like they had a few francs to spare. 

Grantaire’s fingers fiddled with the ties on Enjolras’ casual shirt. Enjolras was too shocked to stop him as he pucked the stings that loosened the ties, slowly exposing the doctor’s neck. 

Grantaire hummed, running a finger along the exposed skin. “Thought you could use some company."

Enjolras finally clasped Grantaire’s hands in his own and gently forced them away. “This is entirely inappropriate, Grantaire. I was your attending physician.”

“Well, since you’re not acting as my - ahm - nurse anymore-"

“I- Doctor. And no, I'm not, but-”

“-there’s nothing wrong, Enjolras.” Grantaire let his name roll off his tongue like a sweet liqueur. His attempt at seduction was impossible to miss. 

Enjolras let out a short scoff and stalked away into his living room. He sat down on his couch and took a sip of his tea, trying to ignore the way the cup rattled against its saucer in his hands. 

“Why are you really here, Grantaire?” he demanded. 

Grantaire had followed close behind, making a point of sitting down on the couch next to him, far closer than was necessary or usual. The younger man placed one hand on Enjolras thigh in a gesture that nearly had Enjolras choking on his tea.

“Company, like I said.” Grantaire took Enjolras’ tea from him and place the cup and saucer back down on the table. He leaned forward, nearly placing himself entirely in Enjolras’ lap. 

“It wouldn’t be right,” Enjolras said, under his breath. His voice was barely above a whisper. His words were only truly for his own benefit. It wouldn’t be right on so many levels, but who was watching? 

“Does it matter?” Grantaire asked. Judging by his smirk, he had the same idea. 

Suddenly, his lips were pressed to Enjolras’. Enjolras couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through him. He’d missed intimacy. He hadn’t had a relationship since his schooldays and even then he hadn’t had much time for them. Enjolras had put most sexual notions out of his mind, but something about Grantaire broke the dam and made all of those thoughts come flooding back. Grantaire was an ugly drunk, but a beautiful young man. As he deepened the kiss, Enjolras could feel his resolve crumbling.

Grantaire’s deft fingers found his cock through the fabric of his trousers. It was wrong, but Enjolras couldn't deny that he was harder than he'd ever been. His length was clearly outlined in Grantaire's grip.

Grantaire moaned into their kiss at the feel of him. "It's big, isn't it. You'll have to be gentle with me, Monsieur," he whispered breathlessly against Enjolras lips, squeezing him.

The pleasure was unlike any Enjolras could remember experiencing and the kiss was suffocating - like drowning in a sea of liquid desire. This was going too far. He knew he had to stop it as Grantaire reached for his belt. Enjolras' hands clasped in a none-too-gentle hold around Grantaire’s seemingly delicate wrists. 

“Stop this.” He hissed, finally leaning out of the kiss.

“Why? Are you a good Christian boy?” Grantaire chuckled into his ear. "We can go see a priest in the morning."

“Just stop.”

Grantaire responded by pressing himself more firmly into Enjolras’ lap. He moved his hips, grinding down onto the bulge of Enjolras’ hardness. “I don’t think you mean that,” he murmured.

Enjolras groaned, leaning his head wearily on the back of the couch. “Please, Grantaire.”

Relenting, Grantaire moved his hands to the more appropriate location of Enjolras’ shoulders.

“What now then? Will you throw me into the street like a used whore?” Grantaire asked, nipping at the older man’s lips playfully. 

Enjolras turned away and  inhaled sharply. He had never known himself to be so affected by words, but Grantaire’s language was so... vulgar. It painted a picture in his head of tangled, naked limbs, skin and sweat, lust and desire.  

At that thought, Enjolras suddenly pulled away from Grantaire and was silent for a long while. He took a few deep breath before responding to the boy’s query. 

“I would not,” Enjolras said. As Grantaire leaned in once more with a wide smile, he quickly added , “just don’t belittle yourself as one.”

Grantaire seemed confused, but he slowly moved away from Enjolras with the knowledge that the man would prefer it. “What would my champion have of me then?”

Enjolras let out a heavy sigh. _Champion_. Grantaire must have gotten that from Éponine as well. 

“I would have you sleep off your drink,” Enjolras replied.

“Let me sleep here!” Grantaire tittered drunkenly, throwing his arms around Enjolras’ neck. “With you, monsieur.”

Enjolras pushed him away with as much force as he could without causing the intoxicated young man any harm. “Alright. Just, please, let me show you to the guest room.”

Grantaire stood on shaky legs, nearly tumbling into Enjolras once again. 

"Are you not even capable of walking straight?"

Grantaire clutched onto Enjolras arm and tittered. "Perhaps you will have to carry me again."

Enjolras blinked. Surprised by Graintaire's words, he looked over at him curiously. "Grantaire, how much do you remember of that night?"

For a long while, Grantaire's only response was silence. Then, suddenly, he let out a loud, dramatic yawn. "I am so very tired."

Enjolras saw right through the excuse, but he only nodded. They had reached the guest room and he opened the door allowing the boy to stumble in.

"I'll fetch something for you to sleep in." Enjolras was about to do just that, but Grantaire stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

"Don't bother; I'm used to sleeping in my clothes." 

Enjolras was about to protest when Grantaire's lips pressed against his once more. He practically spluttered as the boy pulled away. 

"Goodnight, Enjolras," Grantaire whispered against his lips. He smiled at Enjolras through the gap in the door until it was closed.

Enjolras, for what felt like the first time in his life, was left speechless. He stared at the door for a long time contemplating what had just happened. He went to his own room, but was kept up late into the night with thoughts of the boy sleeping in his spare room.

-o-

The next morning Enjolras passed by his guest room and hesitantly opened the door. He saw Grantaire lying there as peacefully as he had seen him sleeping most nights during his rounds back when Grantaire had still been in the asylum. Most nights.

Enjolras closed the door and paced the short hall for a minute. He did not want to wake Grantaire, but what was else he to do? What if the boy refused to leave? What then?

Enjolras paced into the living room and checked his clock. His coach to the asylum would be arriving any minute, he truly did not have time to deal with his uninvited guest. Perhaps Grantaire would just let himself out when he woke? If Enjolras left Grantaire a polite note on how to do just that surely everything would sort itself out.

Well, he could hope.

There was a knock at the door and it forced Enjolras to make a hasty decision. He wrote a quick note, addressed it to Grantaire and placed it at the door where it would not be missed. With that done, he left a virtual stranger in his apartment and went to meet the carriage that would take him to the asylum. 

Once he arrived, Enjolras hopped out of his carriage and walked briskly up to stairs to the main entrance. He nodded to a few of the staff on his way in, but didn’t stop to talk. He wanted to get work started as soon as possible to take his mind off the fact that he had just left a stranger in his home.

As he made his way down the halls to his office, Enjolras could see at the distance that Combeferre was at the door waiting for him with Joly. They were probably talking about something dull and asinine, but judging by the way Joly was clutching his papers to his chest with one hand while the other covered his mouth in a dramatic show of disbelief, he was wide eyed and intent on whatever it was Combeferre was saying. The two seemed to notice Enjolras’ presence at the same time and they turned.

“Oh, Enjolras! Combeferre was just telling me about the state of the poor in the streets of Paris, it’s just awful!” Joly cried.

“Is it?” Enjolras frowned. Joly chattered away recounting Combeferre’s tale. Apparently members of a university group they had once been affiliated with were trying to give humanitarian aid. Combeferre himself repeated some of his own input every few sentences as Joly spoke on. 

Enjolras could not deny he was glad for the distraction. Following the tale, he took the files of his days work from Joly and allowed Combeferre into his office.

“I love a morning chat as much as the next man, but what are you doing here?” Enjolras asked as Joly scurried out of sight. There was only the barest hint of amusement in his tone.

Combeferre’s expression became grave. “It’s just... it’s been a week.”

Enjolras’s went blank. “Ah,” he murmured.

“Yes, Inspector Javert sent me to make sure everything is back to normal.” Combeferre sat down in a chair across from Enjolras' desk. "So, how are things?"

Enjolras took a sharp breath. He wondered, should he tell Combeferre that Grantaire had turned up on his doorstep. No. No, the boy would be gone by the time he arrived home. So, Enjolras decided to focus on giving Combeferre the details pertaining to the hospital and their staff. However, he couldn't divert the subject any longer when Combeferre asked:

"Have you spoken to the victim since the attack? Has he been back here?" 

Enjolras blinked up at him. "Ah," he breathed out slowly.

"Ah?"

With a sigh, Enjolras confessed, "I have spoken with Grantaire but only because he" - Enjolras cleared his throat - "he may have showed up at my house last night."

Combeferre frowned and then he laughed a humourless laugh. "How did you not assume that this information was a good answer to my first question?"

"It's not relevant. Nothing came up about that night, he just-"

Combeferre interrupted. 

"Did you fuck him?"

Enjolras’ slapped down on his desk, rattling the items there. "Combeferre!" 

"Oh please. The boy came to you looking for some comfort, right?” Combeferre shot him a wide grin. “A lovely boy like that, why wouldn't you? If you can tell anyone you can tell me."

Enjolras covered his face with his hands. What Combeferre had said was probably true. Combeferre had known him since their university days and, although Enjolras wasn't one with time for such dalliances, when the need did strike he had never veered towards the fairer sex. In that way he and Combeferre were alike. 

"It's nothing like-" Enjolras stopped and reconsidered that lie quickly before shaking his head. "Forget it. Grantaire was drunk and I lent him my spare bed. The whole event was entirely innocent."

"Sure." Combeferre pulled a pre-rolled cigarette out of his pocket and put it between his lips. He lit it, ignoring the look of disapproval Enjolras shot him. "So, what makes you so attractive to strays? The boy saw your house before; maybe he’s attracted to the luxury you can provide? Hmm?”

Again Enjolras ran his hand over his face. “I don’t know,” he hissed. “Grantaire, he’s... I don’t know.” Enjolras realised he was repeating himself, mumbling. He stopped talking, but the phrase repeated over and over in his head. _I don’t know._

Combeferre waited a second for him to continue. When he realised Enjolras wasn’t going to he chimed in with, “Well, I think...” but he was quickly interrupted by a shout from the door.

“Monsieur Combeferre, are you smoking?!” 

The two of them looked towards the door and saw Joly had returned. He stood in the door frame with a horrified expression. Combeferre was quick to stub out his cigarette.

“This is meant to be a sterile establishment!” Joly continued, his tone still somewhere between outrage and disgust. 

Combeferre grimaced while Enjolras couldn’t keep the amusement off his face. In his opinion, Combeferre deserved it. This was all retribution for his little comment earlier.

“Well, I have other work to do, so I’ll be...” Combeferre stood and gestured towards the door. After receiving a dismissive nod from Enjolras, he made his way out. He turned back only briefly. 

“Do take care, Enjolras.”

Enjolras shooed Combeferre out the door with a wave.

Joly stood to one side of the threshold, allowing what seemed like only just enough space for the officer to walk past. Combeferre was practically forced to pause in the doorway. Even towering slightly above Joly, Combeferre was wary of the doctor’s upset.

“I apologise, Monsieur Doctor,” Combeferre said, his voice a whisper just for the two of them. 

Joly looked up at him only briefly before his eyes shot down again, suddenly shy. “You are forgiven.”

Combeferre gave Joly his most charming of smiles before leaving. 

Enjolras rolled his eyes at his friend’s obviousness. He waved a blushing Joly in and the two of them started with the days work. Slowly, throughout the day thoughts of Grantaire began to fade from Enjolras’ mind. If thoughts did pop up, he just reminded himself that the boy wouldn’t even be there when he got back.

But of course, that would have made life all too easy

-o-

Grantaire was still there when he got back. Enjolras wasn’t certain right away. At first he thought that just maybe Grantaire hadn’t seen his letter and it had simply been left unread on the mantel. Then the smell that hit him; his house was filled with the strong scent of expensive wine. He didn’t even have time to check if the guestroom was empty, he knew Grantaire was still somewhere. 

Enjolras stepped into his living room where the smell was strongest. He soon found Grantaire passed out on the lounge chaise. The boy had drunk himself into a stupor and was laying on his stomach with one hand holding a near empty bottle dangling off the edge of the couch. His third bottle by the looks of it. Enjolras picked up the other two from where they’d been left on the living room table. 

"Oh, Grantaire, what have you done to yourself?" He murmured as he took the last bottle from Grantaire’s hand. He corked them and put the them back onto the wine rack in the kitchen before heading back into the living room. 

“Grantaire?” Enjolras crouched down in front of the couch. With a sigh he ran his fingers through the boy’s black curls, pushing them away from his face. “Wake up.”

“Mm not ‘sleep.” Grantaire’s eyes blinked open. Those glazed blues met Enjolras’ with an unsteady gaze. “Oh, you’re home.”

“Yes, I’m home.” Enjolras sighed and looked around the room. “Come on, let’s get you into a bed.”

“Not tired,” Grantaire whispered. Still, he wrapped his arms around Enjolras neck and pressed his face to his throat, cuddling in close.

With a small amount of effort Enjolras lifted Grantaire from the chaise. He carried the boy into the guest room and layed him down on the bed. Again he didn’t bother with removing his slept-in clothes; he just tucked Grantaire snug beneath the sheets.

“Should I send for your sister?” he asked gently.

The boy cast Enjolras a confused glare before answering with a very clear, “No.” A second later he burst into a fit of quiet laughter. He continued to titter sleepily until he passed out again.

With a heavy sigh, Enjolras shook his head. Grantaire would be dehydrated, he knew, so he left the room to fetch him a glass of water. He placed the glass on the bedside table next to Grantaire and, with one last look back on the boy, he left the room.

Enjolras closed the guestroom door and shook his head as he went back into clean up his slightly disordered living room. Several thoughts ran through his mind as he cleaned.

He knew he never should have allowed the boy into his house in the first place and he would take responsibility for the outcome. Besides, it wasn’t Grantaire’s fault; Enjolras knew that he had brought this on himself. Still, the boy had to go either back to his own home or back to the hospital. He just had to go... away.

Enjolras leaned over his kitchen sink and just breathed. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but he was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of sobbing coming from down the hall. He hurried to the room and burst through the door. 

“Grantaire?!"

Grantaire looked up at him, tears rolling down his cheeks. He was shaking, one hand pressed to his lips. “I’m sorry!” he sobbed, “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” 

Enjolras let his body sag in relief. He approached the bed and sat at the end. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. It’s my fault.” He patted Grantaire’s covered feet, trying to calm him. It was obvious to him that Grantaire wasn’t quite sober yet, he was rambling. 

"I swear to you,” he said. “I will never touch another drop! I swear."

Enjolras squeezed his ankle through the sheets. "Do not make promises you cannot keep. Just rest." He stood and gestured to the glass on the nightstand. “Drink your water,” was all he said before leaving.

He returned to the room an hour later to check on Grantaire. He knew that the boy would have sobered up slightly by then. 

-o-

As Enjolras walked through the door again, Grantaire bit his lip. The boy was staring up at him with a sad expression from his place in the center of the bed. Enjolras couldn’t help but think he looked so pitiful.

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire said for the third time. Something about Enjolras’ expression told him that this was a useless phrase. “I... I’ll pay you back.”

Enjolras sighed. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t worry about it, It’s only wine.” He paused, taking a breath. Unsure of how to continue he asked, “Why?” 

“I honestly don’t know. I can’t help myself, I need... help.” Grantaire covered his face with his hands. “You don’t want to hear this; I’ll leave.”

“No, stay.” Enjolras held out a hand to stop him as Grantaire was about to get up from the bed. Entering the room, Enjolras sat at the edge of the bed, closer to Grantaire this time. He could still smell the wine on the boy’s breath, but determined not to pay it any mind. “I’m a doctor. I’m here to help. I want to help.”

Grantaire stared at him, for the most part, he was confused. “I-I can’t pay you.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh and added, “and I’m not an easy fix.”

“I’m not going to fix you, Grantaire, I’m just going to help you. If you think it’s better for you, stay here another night,” Enjolras said, more clearly this time purposefully ignoring Grantaire’s first statement. “Tomorrow, if you'd like, you can come with me to the asylum and I will arrange an appointment with Doctor Joly.”

Grantaire didn’t reply to that suggestion. He was completely silent for a long while. His eyes were focused on where his hands lay folded on the bed. “I thought you’d hate me,” he whispered.

“Hate is a strong word,” Enjolras said with a nearly invisible smile that could only be described as teasing.

Grantaire’s eyes flickered up to Enjolras briefly before shooting down again as the boy let out an embarrassed little laugh. He suddenly looked a bit feverish.

Enjolras would have laughed too, but he found the lack of eye contact unnerving. He had to ask, “Are you alright?” 

“Oh yes. Fine. I’m just... remembering some things I said last night.” A red flush covered Grantaire’s cheeks. He quietly added, “and did.”

“Ah.”

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologise.” Enjolras let out a breath. “I can’t say the event was not surprising, but the attraction wasn’t all entirely one sided,” he admitted. “So don’t apologise.”

Grantaire was stunned silent. He stared at Enjolras open mouthed for a moment before another laugh escaped his lips. "Oh, Enjolras,” he sighed. “You are a saint."

"No..." Enjolras whispered, distracted. With the memories of the night before fresh on his mind, he found his eyes drawn to Grantaire's lips. "I most certainly am not."

Grantaire smiled and reached out to him. He waited for Enjolras to edge closer before pulling him into an embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered against the doctor’s neck.

For Enjolras’ part, the embrace wasn’t relaxed. His entire body went tense. All he wanted to do was run his fingers up and down along Grantaire’s back before burying his hands in the boy’s black curls, but he was forced to restrain himself. 

There was silence between them. Grantaire leaned out of the embrace and looked up at Enjolras. His mouth opened then closed as if he wanted badly to say something. Finally he just said, “oh, why not?”

Enjolras wasn’t shocked this time, in fact he’d expected it. When Grantaire leaned forward to catch his lips in a kiss he returned it graciously. This kiss was inevitable the result of the heat he had felt building slowly between them. It was unsurprising that the heat would eventually hit boiling point.

This kiss was desperation and desire embodied. It was tangled limbs and groping hands, not the drunken stumbling from the night before. It was everything Enjolras had pictured; the attraction he had felt then intensified. Knowing Grantaire was sober was a piece of the cause. He still wanted Enjolras sober.

Enjolras finally letting his hand slip up the younger man’s back to thread in his hair. He held Grantaire flush against him, hardly even realizing that the were slowly pushing and pulling each other into the bed. Enjolras ended up on top of Grantaire, holding himself over the boy on his elbows. Even though he was trying to stop their lower bodies coming into contact, he was sure Grantaire could feel his hardness pressing against him through his pants. It wasn’t long before Enjoras gave up all pretense of morality and moved between the Grantaire's legs. He pressed his hips down, grinding against the body beneath him. 

Grantaire arched up against him. He clutched Enjolras close, clawing at his shirt. His body was wracked with tremors and, as their tongues met, he let out a sudden moan. His grip on Enjolras tightened, he seemed to be pulling him back.

Enjolras leaned back, panting against Grantaire's lips. He held himself over the younger man and peered down at him worriedly. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Grantaire's eyes blinked open slowly. He relaxed back into the sheets with a sated smile on his lips. 

"I'm not usually so sensitive." He laughed breathlessly.

Like a shot, Enjolras snapped back into reality. He looked down at the non existent space between them. This position, it was one he swore he would not find himself in. He broke away from Grantaire, embarrassed. 

"I... Ah." Enjolras breathed, slowly pulling away from Grantaire even as the boy protested and gently pulled him back. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, while playing with Enjolras' scarf. It slipped from his hand as the doctor stood from the bed.

"Nothing I just- I should-" Enjolras let out a heavy breath. "Goodnight, Grantaire."

Grantaire eyed him oddly for a second before relaxing back into the sheets once more. He let out a thoroughly satisfied hum. “Goodnight, Doctor,” he purred from where he was spread out languidly across the bed.

Enjolras nodded. His eyes were fixed on Grantaire, almost unable to look away. Finally, after a timeless moment, he forced himself to leave the room quickly. He shut the door and pressed his back to the solid wood, leaning against it like a drowning man who'd found a rock in the middle of the ocean.

He moved quickly back down the halls to his own room. He had barely closed the door before his hand was gripping the hardness in his own trousers. he jerked them off only far enough to reach his cock beneath the thick fabrics.

He was so desperate for release that didn’t even get into his own bed. He sank heavily to the floor at the end of it and pulled at his cock with abandon. His thoughts focused on Grantaire, his lips, the way he felt beneath him. Enjolras knew already would never get enough of the feeling of Grantaire pulling him in close, wanting him, needing him. He reached completion remembering the way Grantaire gripped him while he came. Pleasure pulsated through him in time with the speedy beating of his heart.

Enjolras sagged against the end of his bed, letting his head roll back to rest on the mattress. He brought his unsoiled hand up and ran it over his face. He let a deep breath out as a sigh and made a vow to himself. This thing - whatever it was - between him and Grantaire would not go any further. He would tell Grantaire in the morning that if he wished to stay he would have to stop... being so enticing. If that was possible. 

Then everything would go back to how it was before. How it should be.

-o-

 


	3. hungering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much PWP. I just wanted to write some Combeferre/Joly smut tbh.

Nurse Who Loved Me

Part III

-o-

_Temporarily pacify this hungering_

The Hollow ~ A Perfect Circle

-o-

The next morning Enjolras woke early. If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t actually even slept. At first light, he got out of bed and headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast, pausing only briefly at the closed door to the guest room. He raised a hand to the door, about to knock before he shook his head and continued into the kitchen. Sometime later when Grantaire joined him, Enjolras was sitting alone at a table set for two and covered with tea paraphernalia, milk, sliced bread, butter and a variety of jams.

Grantaire blinked. He seemed confused, but there was also a sort of glee lighting up his eyes. “Well, no one has ever made me breakfast before,” he said giddily.

Enjolras jumped; Grantaire’s voice pulled out of his quiet musings. He had somehow missed the sound of the boy coming down the hall. “Ah! You’re awake.”

Grantaire smiled even though Enjolras behaving very strangely, but his brow creased slightly with confusion. “Yes. It is morning.” He had to hold back a laugh. “You were moving about quite a bit in here.”

“Ah, yes. I made breakfast. Please.” Enjolras gestured to the meal set out in front of him. He stood and waited for Grantaire to take the seat across from him.

“I can see that,” Grantaire laughed. He joined Enjolras at the table and allowed the man to pour himself a cup of tea. “Do you have any brandy?”

Enjolras stopped pouring suddenly and looked up at Grantaire’s grinning face.

“I’m joking.”

“Ah...”

“I’d love sugar though... if you have any,” he said, seriously this time.

“Of course!” Enjolras turned abruptly and began haphazardly searching through his cupboards. He accidentally knocked over a candleholder that sat on the edge of the counter, sending it clanging down onto to the hardwood floor.

Grantaire cocked his head to one side. “Are you alright, monsieur?”

“I’m fine,” Enjolras replied, quickly picking up his mess. He grabbed the sugar bowl that had been sitting on the counter the entire time and lifted it triumphantly.

“Sugar,” he said as he placed it in front of Grantaire on the table.

“Thank you.” Grantaire smiled and put two heaping spoonfulls into his teacup. “Are you sure we have time for breakfast?” he asked while stirring. “Do you not have work this morning?”

“Oh yes, but I don’t have to be there until noon. We have plenty of time.”

“How is it that you got the job as head of the asylum?” Grantaire asked, looking at Enjolras with curious blue eyes. He took a sip of tea while he waited for the man to answer.

Enjolras frowned down at his slice of bread, which looked strange if Grantaire’s stifled laughter was anything to go by. Ruffling his hand through his hair, he replied,

“I had just finished school and was looking for work when I heard about the last asylum director’s... retirement through a friend in the police force. It wasn’t very hard to get an application in. The man who actually owns the asylum just runs the place for profit; he doesn’t have much to do with goings on save for hiring.” Enjolras let out a heavy sigh and shrugged. “I think hiring me was convenient,” he admitted.

“Mm.” Grantaire nodded, his head tilted to one side. “I trained to be a doctor too, you know.”

Enjolras tried to keep the shock off his face, knowing it would be rude. Grantaire had gone to medical school? “Whatever happened?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Thankfully Grantaire didn’t take offense to his prying. He simply shrugged.

“I think I was meant for the arts," Grantaire joked, with a wistful smile on his face. "I mean, I was alright at maths, but then biological sciences just..." He stopped, waving a hand dismissively.

Enjolras didn’t press; he could tell Grantaire had avoided giving a more honest answer. He could not be sure, but he speculates that the stress of his studies could have been something that pushed Grantaire into his state. It was not uncommon for students, overwhelmed with studying and exams, to take to the bottle to relieve some of the stress.

“Well, perhaps you can be of assistance at the asylum... if you even need a job that is.” Enjolras looked up to see great interest shining in Grantaire’s eyes.

They discussed the subject while they ate whiling away the time until a knock could be heard on the door down the stairs. Enjolras almost laughed; he couldn’t believe he hadn’t taken notice of the time. Together, they were able to clear away the food that needed to be stored out of the open air before they left the apartment to meet the carriage.

-o-

When they arrived the asylum, Enjolras hopped out of the carriage as easily as he did every morning. He looked up at the stunning baroque architecture of the former palace and sighed. Behind him, Grantaire wasn’t as quick to disembark.

Enjolras turned to usher him out, but stopped when he noticed the boy’s hesitance. Grantaire was staring forward towards the steps leading up to the front doors with unblinking eyes. He was gripping the wood at the threshold of the carriage door, his knuckles going white with tension.

“You don’t have to join me if you don’t want to, Grantaire.”

Grantaire’s eyes turned on Enjolras, almost startled. “I-” He stopped and shook his head, practically shivering. “I’m sorry. I’m fine.”

Enjolras smiled gently as he could. “No need to apologize.” He held a hand out to Grantaire who was still on the edge of his seat inside the carriage. “Would you care to join me inside?”

Grantaire looked at his hand and laughed. He climbed out of the carriage on his own. “I am not some bourgeois lady, Monsieur Docteur,” he teased.

Enjolras lowered his hand, slightly embarrassed. He let out a low chuckle. “Of course.”

As they made their way inside and down the halls, Enjolras noticed that Combeferre was once again waiting for him outside his office. Enjolras stifled the urge to pretend he hadn’t seen the man. He ignored the tightness in his chest and prepared himself for the inevitable awkwardness.

“Monsieur Thénardier,” Combeferre greeted Grantaire with a knowing smile that Enjolras immediately wanted to smack off his smug face.

“Just Grantaire, thank you,” was the boy’s quick reply.

“Well, it’s good to see you again, Grantaire. Do you remember me?”

Grantaire nodded and smiled shyly. “Of course, Monsieur l’Inspecteur.”

Combeferre seemed pleased and he was about to speak again when Enjolras cut it.

“What is your business here this time?” he asked abruptly. He didn’t bother trying not to come off as rude, there was no hiding it.

Combeferre stood there, looking at him with his mouth open, but words were slow to form. Enjolras prayed the man wouldn’t let on about their conversation the day before. He knew he was safe when Combeferre closed his mouth and simply smirked.

“I’ve been posted here,” he answered bluntly.

“For how long?” Enjolras demanded. The tension between him and Combeferre was unbearable; he hoped Grantaire didn’t notice.

“It’s an indefinite stationing. Javert is keen to see this place up to standards. He says ‘Godspeed’ to you by the way.”

Enjolras groaned. As benevolent and saintly as Javert was, the man still came across terrifying. “Right. Well, as you’re here, would you mind finding Joly for me please? If you could inform that Grantaire will be working as my assistant today, but still requires an appointment later in the afternoon, that would be good of you.”

Again Combeferre looked like he wanted to say something. His eyes shifted warily between Enjolras and Grantaire. When he caught the Thénardier boy’s wide blue eyes blinking up at him with all the innocence of a dove, he let out a yielding breath.

“I’ll be sure to send him your way when I see him,” he said finally, much to Enjolras’ obvious relief.

The doctor let out a sigh and nodded, murmuring a work of thanks. He then quickly moved past Combeferre and ushered Grantaire into his office.

-o-

Combeferre was pleased with himself, but he tried not to look too smug as he wandered the halls in search of Joly. He was fully aware that Enjolras was going to give him quite the talking to when they were alone, but it was worth it to see his usually stoic friend break into a cold sweat. Enjolras deserved it for trying to hide the fact that he was having an affair with a former patient from one of his oldest friends. Oh, they were obviously sleeping together; Combeferre wasn’t blind. However, he also wasn’t about to go about spreading rumors about it either. Although he was of the opinion that Enjolras should have been subtler. Some members of his staff weren’t as considerate.

Combeferre eventually found Joly while roaming the halls near his office. He walked up along side Joly where two halls intersected. The smaller man didn’t even look up from what he was doing.

“Joly,” Combeferre greeted casually.

“Oh!” Joly jumped slightly. “Good lord, Combeferre!” He had been so preoccupied with the patient file he was going over that he hadn't even noticed the man sideling up to him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Combeferre chuckled. “Enjolras sent me after you.”

“Did he?” Joly looked mildly surprised. He wondered why Enjolras didn’t just come himself. Combeferre’s blunt reply told him he would be waiting a bit longer to find that out.

“It can wait. How are you this morning?”

Joly looked up at the officer suddenly feeling a bit flush. He had only met Combeferre a few times now, but they had been aware of each other at school. They were never classmates though; Combeferre had been a few years ahead. It was strange seeing the man everyday now.

Joly didn’t know why, but it bothered him.

Well, perhaps bothered wasn’t the most appropriate description for how he felt about Combeferre. The day before, the officer seemed to hang close to areas where Joly was pointedly unless he needed to speak with Enjolras. It was becoming more and more difficult for Joly to do his work.

Combeferre wasn’t a bother. He was... distracting.

“I am well,” Joly said, finally responding to the man’s small talk.

“No more messes in the common area?”

Joly visibly shuddered at the memory. The day before, a young female patient with a penchant for running wild outside had thrown herself into a puddle of half melted snow and frozen mud. She had been quite amicable the entire day so no one had taken note of her until she came running into the common area, tracking mud over the pristine floors. That afternoon, Joly nearly had a panic attack.

“No, there haven’t been any incidents,” he replied, mentally adding ‘Thank God!’ to the end of that. He looked to Combeferre then and said, “Thank you, by the way.” If it hadn’t been for Combeferre helping subdue the patient before the mess could spread much past the entry, Joly was sure he would have passed out.

Combeferre chuckled. “How are you ever going to cope if you can’t even get the least bit dirty?”

Joly huffed and stopped suddenly. He turned towards Combeferre and frowned up at the man. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He wanted to protest the subtle accusation, but words failed him when he noticed Combeferre’s eyes on him, taking him in appreciatively.

Combeferre eyed him up and down and then his gaze shifted to the door at his back. “Is this your office?” he asked in a low tone.

“Yes,” Joly replied, staring down at his feet before he pulled himself together. He looked Combeferre in the eye and did his best impression of a busy man. “What was it Enjolras wanted you to tell me?”

Combeferre crowded Joly against the door then reached around him to open it. He moved forward further until they were both inside the room and he was able to close the heavy oak door.

“It can wait,” Combeferre said, repeating his same words from earlier. He locked the door behind them.

Joly swallowed. He, at first, assumed Combeferre was still teasing him. The man wasn’t one to stray from his duties. Besides, attractive though Combeferre was, Joly himself didn’t have time to stray from his own duties. Though attractive Combeferre was...

Joly derailed that train of thought quickly. “Be serious, Monsieur Combeferre.”

Shaking his head, he went to place files on his desk at the other end of the room. He was about to turn back around when a large form pressed up behind him. Joly gasped as he was pinned between the firm wall of Combeferre’s body and his desk. A shiver ran through his entire body at the feeling of the other man’s dominant presence so near.

Combeferre pressed his lips to his ear and the officer whispered, “I am always serious, Monsieur Joly.”

"You must stop this, Combeferre." Joly’s words weren’t even said with half-hearted protest. Waves of lust washed over him. All he could think was ‘oh god, I’m at work’ before even that last responsible thought faded from his mind.

Combeferre chuckled. "Must I now? Nothing has stopped you before. I know of you, Jollly,” he drawled. “I know you share a mistress with another man, a man I know quite well actually. In fact, Corporal Bossuet tells me that he and Mademoiselle Musichetta were quite surprised by some of the wicked things you enjoy. For all your shyness and apparent delicacy, you are filthy."

Joly gasped. Combeferre spoke his last words so close that Joly could feel the man’s breath hot on his ear. He tried to look up at Combeferre but his eyes were heavy lidded with lust.

"I'll wager you fuck Bossuet's while he takes your mistress.” A deep chuckle rumbled through Combeferre’s chest. “No. You're scared to get your hands dirty; maybe, you just like to watch."

"Oh god. Combeferre, this is entirely…” Joly finished with a gasp.

Combeferre ignored him, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Wait, I know… you like to take Bossuet's cock while fucking your Musichetta. Is that it, Doctor? You like the feel of a man inside you? Filthy boy. Which do you prefer? Fucking your mistress or being fucked by your master?" Combeferre pressed himself fully against Joly, his lips once again against the shorter man’s ear. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispered.

Joly let out a sound that was part laugh and part pleasured cry. "The things you say," he moaned softly.

The long white coat Joly wore was slowly stripped from his shoulders and Joly couldn't stop the sigh that escaped his lips while Combeferre ran his hands down the length of his silk clad arms. Those firm hands moved from Joly’s arms to his sides and up along Joly’s chest. From behind, Combeferre deftly undid the clasps on the vest that soon joined Joly’s coat on the floor leaving Joly feeling half naked in his silk undershirt. Again Combeferre’s hands were on him, sliding from his neckline down over his collarbone. His fingers easily found Joly’s nipples hard underneath the soft fabric. Combeferre caressed them gently through the silk, reveling in the young doctor’s delighted moans.

Combeferre pushed Joly’s silk shirt up under his arms, exposing the pale skin of his back. His hands moved over it. His fingers traced lines between Joly’s moles.

“You really are lovely,” Combeferre whispered, almost reverently as he pressed soft kisses to Joly’s skin.

Joly bit his hand to keep from moaning too loudly, the last thing they needed was for some nosy orderly to come check in. But Combeferre’s hands felt amazing. Strong fingers massaged over Joly’s skin, moving lower and lower until he reached the waistline of Joly’s pants.

“Oh god,” Joly hissed. With a single sharp tug, Combeferre had divested him of his pants and trousers. He was left standing bent over his desk with his pert ass presented much to Combeferre’s obvious delight.

Combeferre grabbed the pale flesh on display before him. He took Joly’s cheeks in his hands and squeezed. His thumbs trailed down, spreading Joly open for him. The pad of one thumb delved deeper, pressing against Joly’s entrance and putting a slight pressure on the muscle.

“Lotion,” Joly panted. “In the desk.”

Combeferre leaned over to open the top desk drawer. He was able to reach from where he stood, but not without pressing his entire clothed form against Joly’s, pressing the smaller man even more firmly against the desk. With the lotion he found there in hand, he slicked his fingers and returned them to Joly. He spread the young doctor open again and ran his finger up and down over his hole before pressing in.

Combeferre had it in his head that he should go slowly, but as he moved that first finger and then a second into Joly, he met little resistance. It was a clear reminder that Joly had taken a cock before would have no trouble taking his. At that thought, Combeferre out a low groan. He practically shook with anticipation.  

“Surprised that I am not some innocent maid?” Joly panted, biting his lip to hold back a smirk as he looked over at Combeferre.

Combeferre chuckled, a low sound filled with his desire. “After what I’ve learned from Bossuet, I doubt anything about you could surprise me.”

Joly let out a sound halfway between a moan and a laugh as Combeferre continued to work his fingers thrusting inside him. Joly looked back over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you getting undressed?” he asked sweetly, eyeing the other man up and down with clear desire in his eyes.

Combeferre leaned over him, letting his clothed form press against Joly’s naked skin. He thrust his hips forward so that the bulge in his pants pressed to Joly’s rear.

“I don’t think I will,” he replied. “This is a hospital after all... need to keep things sanitary.”

Joly let out a low groan. He reached behind him, blindly seeking out the buttons on the front of Combeferre’s trousers. His fingers flicked at them, but at the odd angle he couldn’t get them undo.

“Allow me.”

Combeferre took Joly’s hand and held it to the desk before opening his trousers. He pulled everything down only far enough to release his cock. Joly struggled to see, but a firm hand on his back kept him from moving. He could hear the sound of the lotion bottle being placed back on the desk, then a slick noise as Combeferre worked the slave over himself.

Combeferre pressed forward, teasing Joly, making him gasp by pressing his thick length between his cheeks. He stroked his cock over Joly’s slick entrance, pressing the head to his hole pressing in only slightly before sliding up his crack again and again. When Joly was seconds away from begging, Combeferre plunged into him.

“Ah!” Joly gasped and pushed back against the thick length inside him. His face contorted into an expression of pure bliss. He shuddered as Combeferre’s hands gripped his hips to steady his thrusts. His cock pressed to the hard wood of his desk, a reminder that he was in his office. It all sent a thrill through him that was only secondary to the ecstasy coursing through his veins.

Combeferre pulled out and thrust forward again and again. He leaned forward over Joly, pressing his lips to the back of his pale neck, moist breath heating the skin there. Reaching around Joly, he stroked his hand over the smaller man’s chest, down over his flat abdomen to fist his cock. Joly gripped his forearm then his hand slid down until his fingers meshed with Combeferre’s on his cock. Combeferre thrust, faster and harder, caressing Joly’s cock in time with each thrust until the pleasure built up, nearly suffocating them both.

With a final broken gasp, Joly collapsed on this desk spent and thoroughly fucked. He could hear Combeferre panting above him. The man shuddered, making an effort not to drop his weight onto Joly’s back. The press of his uniform shirt against over sensitive skin sent a shiver up Joly’s spine. They stayed like that for a long while, letting the last residuals of pleasure slowly melt away.

With some effort, Joly turned his head to the side and blinked up at Combeferre with happy, lust-glazed eyes.

“So,” he started in a tone husky with satiation. "What was it you came to tell me?”

Combeferre chuckled and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

-o-

“Where have you been?” Enjolras asked without even looking up as Combeferre entered his office. It was about an hour before they would be getting ready to let the night shift workers take over. Grantaire had just left a minute before with Joly to start his first therapy session.

Combeferre didn’t respond. He sat down heavily into the chair across from Enjolras’ desk and looked at the other man. When Enjolras briefly looked up from his paperwork, he simply beamed at him.

“What are you smiling about?” Enjolras asked, his brow creasing.

“I don’t know. Life.” Combeferre shrugged. “Though I must say, I’m a bit upset that you haven’t placed your trust in me, Enjolras. You know you can tell me what’s going on between you and Grantaire, don’t you? I’m not going to tell everybody and their mother; I’m not Marius.”

Enjolras let out a humorless laugh. “Ha! Thank god for that, but seriously, Combeferre, there’s nothing going on. Grantaire and I we’re not... an item.”

It was Combeferre’s turn to laugh this time. He shook his head at Enjolras’ polite choice of words.

“Nevertheless, you know I don’t like it when you hide things from me.”

Enjolras smirked. “I think your position has gone to your head, Monsieur l’inspecteur.”

Combeferre laughed. The two of them made small talk as Enjolras worked. The workday eventually came to an end, they knew, when Grantaire returned with Joly. Enjolras’ head immediately snapped up when they entered, but relief washed over him when he saw that Grantaire was smiling.

“Monsieur Joly,” Combeferre said with a nod.

Joly’s face went completely red and he replied with a gentle, “Monsieur Combeferre,” before turning to exit the office as quickly as he could without seeming rude.

Enjolras frowned. The behavior was odd, but he didn’t comment.

A moment later Combeferre hopped out of his seat. “Well, my work is done for the day.”

Enjolras snorted. “What work?” he wanted to say, but again he held his tongue. With a wave of his hand, he ushered Combeferre out the door as the man said his goodbyes to Grantaire.

Enjolras watched Grantaire as he took Combeferre’s recently vacated seat. It seemed there was no cause for worry. Grantaire seemed relaxed and in a pleasant mood.

“How was your appointment?” Enjolras asked after the other two had left. Starting therapy was usually difficult, he was relieved to see Grantaire seemed perfectly fine.

Grantaire laughed as if Enjolras had just told a joke. “Joly is a good man, pleasant to talk to and very understanding.” Grantaire twiddled his thumbs and shot Enjolras his most innocent gaze. “He had brandy in his desk; we may have shared a glass or two.”

Enjolras only nodded; he was completely unsurprised by this. That was standard practice when helping alcoholics wean themselves off the substance; though it seemed counterintuitive, it tended to work better than completely cutting them off right off the bat tended.

“I’m glad you think these appointments will be helpful.”

Grantaire nodded happily. “Oh yes! I like Monsieur Joly, I think we could be good friends.”

Enjolras frowned at that. “Well, Joly is meant to be your doctor, Grantaire, not your friend.”

“But are you not now my friend?” Grantaire asked with a devilish smile. “And weren’t you my doctor?”

“I wasn’t your doctor,” Enjolras explained. “I was acting as...” he waved his hand vaguely trying to come up with the right term.

The director? No, that was his title among the staff. He wasn’t directing patients.

Supervisor? That didn’t quite sound right either.

“A nurse?” Grantaire suggested suddenly.

Enjolras laughed and shook his head. Memories of his first chat with Grantaire surfaced in his mind. Grantaire had explained why he had been confused back then. Apparently, the boy wasn’t used to seeing Doctor Brevet and therefore thought everyone he had contact with was either a nurse or and orderly.

“You to act just like a nurse,” Grantaire noted with a smile.

Enjolras sighed. He didn’t really know what that meant, but he hoped for Grantaire it meant he felt safe and cared for. That was all Enjolras wanted and if that was how he made Grantaire feel then he counted it as a success.

 

 


	4. reckless dark desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! I had a weird writer’s block sort of two weeks and then I just kept getting taken away from my laptop by my friends (which is good, but not for my writing LOL). I would promise the next chapter is coming quicker, but I don’t want to be a liar~ So I’ll just say sorry in advance and for anyone who has commented ‘I hope you finish’ DON’T WORRY I WOULD NEVER LEAVE SOMETHING UNFINISHED! 
> 
> Anywho… Thanks for your comments and kudos and such~! Read on!

-o-

Nurse Who Loved Me

PART IV

-o-

_Help me if you can it's just that this is not the way I'm wired so could you please,_

_Help me understand why you've given in to all these reckless dark desires_

The Outsider ~ A Perfect Circle

-o-

Enjolras frowned hearing a knock at his door. It was his first day off in a month and he had been enjoying a quiet afternoon with a book and a cup of tea. Grantaire had gone out to visit his sister and fiancé leaving him alone for the afternoon. Enjolras had been asked if he wanted to join them, but he declined the invitation. He had gotten to know Éponine and her intended, Montparnasse, over dinner a week before and he wasn’t keen on the grave looking young man.

Montparnasse was a good match for Éponine. He was doting and protective of her, but he had an eerie look in his eyes, one that Enjolras had only seen in a few of the convicts Combeferre had him examine back when he was in need of work after school - before he got the job at the asylum. Enjolras reminded himself to ask Combeferre if he knew anything of this Montparnasse, but until then he wanted to stay as far from him as possible.

Grantaire had pouted, but Enjolras didn’t feel too bad for turning down the afternoon outing. It was his day off after all. Grantaire had accepted that and went out to meet his sister by himself, not even realizing that it was the first time he had gone out by himself since he’d moved in.

Enjolras smiled, a little spark of pride jumping in his chest. It had been nearly a month since Grantaire started sleeping in his spare room. Though the boy had lapsed once or twice, drinking a full bottle of wine one evening before passing out on the couch, Grantaire was a perfectly marvellous flatmate. Enjolras’ only fear was that he was finding it harder and harder to pass off Grantaire’s none-too-subtle touches and his own building desire for closeness as coincidence.

Another knock at the door derailed that train of thought. Enjolras stood finally and went to answer it. Maybe it Grantaire just getting back in, but why would he feel the need to knock?

Just as he had done on that fateful day Grantaire had first shown up, Enjolras wondered who would be calling without any forewarning at such and odd time of...

“Enjolras!”

“Marius...” Enjolras swore he could feel blissful relaxation draining from him and a heartbeat.

“Splendid afternoon we’re having, isn’t it?” Marius said with a big smile, even as he seemed anxious to be let in.

“It was,” Enjolras replied without even trying to be judicious. He stepped aside and ushered Marius through the door. “What brings you to my door, Pontmercy?”

Marius looked upset, but Enjolras knew it was more caused by his formality than his jibe.  He’d long since given up forcing himself to be amicable with Marius.

“Do I need a reason to visit an old friend?” Marius asked, still smiling.

Enjolras sighed as he made a conscious decision to at least be polite. “I suppose you don’t,” he said, leading Marius into the living room. He sat down and noticed Marius looking down the halls and towards the threshold that led into the kitchen with a peculiar expression.

“Looking for something?” Enjolras asked warily.

Marius had the decency to look a little guilty. “I- is your... patient still with you?”

Enjolras tried his best to keep a scowl off his face. He didn’t even bother asking Marius how he’d come to know about his living arrangements. Rumours spread around Paris like wildfire.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras replied pointedly, “is having tea with his sister... and he is not my patient.”

“Oh, of course.” Marius smiled, but he didn’t seem convinced. He changed the subject, knowing full well that Enjolras wouldn’t like his next topic any better. "Grandfather is wondering on your status, are you courting by any chance?"

Enjolras let out an annoyed huff that proved Marius’ theory. "You are both well aware that I have no time for such things."

"Well, I thought that once back when we were still school as well, before Cosette and I-"

"Cosette and I, Cosette and I." Enjolras rolled his eyes. "I would sell my soul to make you understand how little I care about ‘Cosette and I’," he mocked. “Chose some other topic or go home, talking about the crush you have on your own wife is not how I want to spend my day off.”

Marius pouted. He was quiet for a while, hurt. Enjolras didn’t care. He was about to pick up his book and let Marius show himself out when the other man piped up again.

“Is... Grantaire paying you to live here?”

“No,” Enjolras replied bluntly.

“Well, if he ever becomes a burden; I know a few people who could use a good room. Courfeyrac mentioned to me that he was looking for a new place. You remember Courfeyrac.” Mairus looked up at Enjolras, hopeful. “He would give you a fair sum for your room if-”

Despite his good intentions, Enjolras cut Marius off with a frustrated growl. "I don't want to talk about money, Marius," he said in a low tone.

“There isn’t much you want to talk about these days, is there,” Marius noted quietly. He stood down though when he caught a glimpse of the challenge in Enjolras eyes. Again they sat in silence. It took some time, but eventually Marius spoke up once more and this time Enjolras knew that this was his true reason for turning up that day.

"When my Grandfather took you in after your father was killed in the revolution, he saw great things in you and decided that we would be raised like brothers. You've finished school now and you've become the head doctor at a reputed asylum-"

"I have more than paid back anything I own to, Monsieur Gillenormand." Enjolras stood suddenly and began pacing.

Marius shook his head and raised a hand to stop him. "Like you said, Enjolras. I'm not here to talk about money. I think my grandfather sees you as... an investment of sorts."

Enjolras shook his head. He came to a stop running his fingers through his hair. “Your grandfather. He just... he wants to shape people into things that they are not.” Enjolras let out a sharp humourless laugh. “Look what a fine job he did with you.”

Marius ignored the jibe as usual. "He just wants to make sure you're doing what's best for you.” Enjolras scoffed even as Marius continued. “I mean we all do." Marius' face pinched. "Living with a patient or even a former patient... this young man... Rumours have started to get about. That he some street urchin; a drunk; a rake; a hysteric-"

"None of you have even met him," Enjolras scoffed. "Those are rumours. Lies and nothing more.”

Marius let out a heavy breath. "Enjolras, this type of scandal could ruin your career,” he warned. “You’re like a brother to me. I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.”

Enjolras’ brow creased into a frown and he shook his head. Scandal? What scandal? What debauchery had he involved himself in? He’d helped imprison a rapist for Christ’s sake! He and Grantaire… they’d done nothing wrong. At least nothing anyone actually knew about. Even so, that was his business. Personal.

Enjolras shook his head. “Scandal,” he muttered under his breath. “Not the only scandal in our merry band, is it? Tell me, Marius, does Monsieur Gillenormand know about your ex-convict father-in-law? I’m sure that truth would be far more exciting than any exaggerations about my affairs.”

Marius frowned, hurt and confused. “You swore you wouldn’t-“

Enjolras stood abruptly and shot him a cold glare. “And I will keep my word because it is your business. Now, if you would be so kind, leave me to mine!”

Just as Marius stood to retort, the sound of the front door slamming broke the tension. He and Enjolras looked towards the hall as a voice called out from the entryway.

 “Enjolras! I stopped by a patisserie on my way home and- oh.” Grantaire stopped suddenly in the threshold upon seeing the stranger in their living room. “Hello. My apologies, I had no idea we were expecting anyone.” He cast them odd glance, noticing their clenched fists and strange expressions. “Enjolras?”

Before Enjolras could speak Marius cut in. “You must be Monsieur Grantaire,” he said pleasantly, straightening his jacket.

Enjolras held in a scowl. Marius was obviously surprised by Grantaire’s quite normal appearance. They had all heard the rumours. People described Grantaire as some ugly, eccentric, drunkard; it was all so far from the truth.

Grantaire was much more courteous than Enjolras had the patients to be. He smiled at Marius.  “Yes,” he replied, “just Grantaire is fine unless you prefer formalities, Monsieur-”

“I am Enjolras’ fr- I am Marius Pontmercy. It’s a pleasure, Grantaire.”

Grantaire was too caught up in his recognition of that name to notice Marius’ stumbling. “Pontmercy? Yes, you were a friend of Éponine’s, weren’t you?” His words were filled with none-too-subtle accusation, but Marius didn't seem to catch on.

“Yes! You’re the other brother! I haven’t seen her since my wedding. How is she? I-”

"Unfortunately there isn’t the time, Marius was just leaving,” Enjolras interrupted rudely. He stood and handed Marius his hat. “It was nice to see you again, but I must draw this discussion to a close and bid you good day."

Marius blinked at him, but quickly relented. With a heavy sigh he took his hat and nodded. "Fine. I will come again soon. A pleasure to meet you, Grantaire."

Grantaire replied with a soft, “likewise” even as he was left to close the door behind the departing man. Enjolras had already returned to the living room. Grantaire locked the door and followed to find Enjolras sitting on a couch with his head in his hands. He raised it and tried too soften his expression as Grantaire hesitantly entered the room.

 “I do believe my sister was in love with your Marius when we were growing up,” Grantaire whispered, as if he thought Pontmercy was just going to burst back through the door and hear him.

Enjolras half-laughed. “He’s not ‘my Marius’.”

Grantaire placed his bag of bread and pastries on the tea table in the living room. “Still, I’m sure there was no need to be so abrupt, Enjolras. He was a guest after all. If I learned anything from my parents, as horrible as they are, they typically wanted guests to come back.”

“Well my guests are my business and I didn’t want him hanging around anymore. He’d already long overstayed his welcome before you returned.” Enjolras let out a breath. He was in a mood, he knew, and there was no reason to take his annoyances out on Grantaire. “I’m sorry  for being so intolerant, something about Marius turns me into a petulant child.”

“You grew up with him, didn’t you? My sister brings out the worst in me at times,” he laughed.

When Enjolras didn’t even crack a smile, Grantaire gazed up at him with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked carefully, coming to stand opposite Enjolras. The blond opened his mouth to speak, then closed it in a way that made Grantaire bite back a smile.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated.

“I love you.”

Grantaire froze staring at Enjolras. His mouth was agape, but words failed him. It was the abruptness that was most shocking. I love you. Those aren’t words that you just pull from out of nowhere like that.

“What?”

Enjolras threw his hands up in the air. “That’s what’s wrong,” he admitted easily. “I love you. I want you here with me, I don’t want anyone else to touch you ever again and I want,” Enjolras paused and took Grantaire’s face in his hands letting his thumbs stroke ruddy cheeks, “you.”

Grantaire stared up at him, his expression a mask of disbelief. “I’m supposed to be the crazy one, remember,” he teased gently.

Enjolras frowned at those self-deprecating words. He almost seemed hurt.

“Be serious,” he said.

Grantaire looked like he had to bite his tongue to hold in a pithy reply. “Okay,” he replied instead.

Enjolras took a deep breath and began to speak again. “Marius came here to tell me what a bad name I’m making for myself. He said our living together is scandalous. But we have not even..." He lowered his eyes and he guiltily pictured the scenes that he blamed Marius for putting into his head, even though they were there long before his old friend showed up to bring them into the spotlight.

He placed his hands on Enjolras cheeks as if he was about to pulled the other man closer to bring their lips together. He did not do that, but he did look up at Enjolras with expectation in his eyes. "If everyone already thinks that we have, why do you still feel the need to retain yourself?"

Enjolras looked sheepish. “You’d noticed.”

“Oh, yes.” Grantaire smiled. “I’ve been subtle in trying to seduce you, ever since you pulled away that night. You have quite the resolve.”

“Trying to seduce me?” Enjolras half-laughed. He looked unsure of himself, staring up at Grantaire with some confusion in his eyes. “Even now?”

Grantaire walked right up to Enjolras, coming forwards towards him slowly until their noses practically pressed together. As Grantaire smiled, his lips moved against Enjolras’. “Am I wicked?”

Enjolras stared for a long while, not answering. “I don’t care what people say,” he whispered finally.

Grantaire leaned forward, getting impossibly closer so he could whisper in Enjolras ear.

“Good.”

Enjolras’ hands moved hesitantly from his sides to run long the hem of Grantaire’s green waistcoat. He tilted his head to the side so he could look into Grantaire’s heavy lidded eyes as the younger man rested his head on his shoulder. Dipping his head, Enjolras captured Grantaire’s lips with his own. It was an innocent green bud of a kiss that quickly blossomed into a fiery red bloom.

Grantaire let out a little moan and clutched at the other man, his fists full of the scarlet fabric that covered Enjolras’ broad shoulders. Enjolras pulled him closer, grasping at his back. Those hands slid lower as the kiss became more heated. They pulled away from each other only briefly. Grantaire too the second to look Enjolras up and down, letting out a low moan.

-o-

Neither of the two could remember making their way down the hall to the master bedroom. Just outside the door, Grantaire grabbed Enjolras and pressed him into the opposite wall, which sent it rattling and nearly knocked several pictures off their hooks. They broke a kiss only to laugh.

 “Come,” Enjolras said, his voice husky with desire. He took Grantaire’s hand and led him into the bedroom.

Grantaire’s eyes went wide as they entered. He had never been in Enjolras’ room before. It was much more luxurious than the spare room, which itself was far from Spartan. Grantaire walked over to the canopy bed while Enjolras closed the door behind them. He sat down, letting his hands roam over the silk sheets.

“Red,” he said, bouncing slightly on the edge of the mattress. “How fitting.”

Enjolras moved towards him. He was about to climb onto the bed next to Grantaire and had one knee up on the mattress when Grantaire stopped him with a gentle hand on his hip. Without a word, Grantaire started at the buttons on the flap at the front of Enjolras’ trousers.

His trousers open, Enjolras could feel hot breath through the fabric of his underwear as Grantaire mouthed the bulge he found there. Grantaire worked at a tantalizingly slow pace, looking up at Enjolras with lust-darkened eyes the entire time until finally Enjolras’ cock was out and Grantaire looked down to see what he had unleashed.

Enjolras carded his hand through Grantaire’s dark curls while the younger man took him in hand. He let out a low groan while pale fingers worked up and down the length of him. With a pleasured shudder, he watched Grantaire lick his full lips before lowering his head.

“God!”

Grantaire took Enjolras in his mouth, closing his eyes and making a pleasured noise. He ran his hand under the hem of Enjolras’ shirt while his head bobbed along his length.  The soft groans he drew from Enjolras nearly had him chuckling around the cock in his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at Enjolras while he moved, up and down. Lust hazy blue eyes met his and Grantaire had to move his hands to Enjolras hips as the man shuddered and thrust, nearly choking him. When Enjolras’ finger’s tightened in his hair pulling him closer, Grantaire dragged himself away, letting his tongue lap at the tip of Enjolras’ cock one last time as he went.

Enjolras was just approaching the edged when Grantaire pulled away. “Why are you stopping?” he gasped out, his eyes unfocused from the pleasure he’d been receiving.

“I had something else in mind,” Grantaire replied with a cheeky grin. He kneeled on the edge of the bed so he was level with Enjolras once more and quickly gave the man’s cock a couple firm stokes before he whispered, “Strip and lie down.”

Enjolras did so, his eyes never leaving Grantaire’s as he took of his clothes one piece at a time. He loved the way Grantaire watched him, biting his lips as he waited. Once Enjolras had finished, he stood naked before the bed. When Grantaire moved aside, he lay down. His eyes followed Grantaire as the younger man climbed off the bed.

Enjolras moved himself to his side, watching Grantaire strip now. Grantaire was quick to strip, but he still put on more of a show of it than Enjolras had. He bent forward fully to remove his trousers. He had the body of a gymnast, lean and flexible. When the trousers fell to the floor, Grantaire ripped off his waistcoat and shirt and tossed them to some forgotten corner of the room. Naked, he stepped out of the pile of clothes at his feet and join Enjolras back on the bed.

Enjolras pulled him close and their lips met in another passionate kiss. Heat flooded the space between them. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Finally, they had to break for air.

 “I want to ride you,” Grantaire breathed.

Enjolras let out a low groan. He released Grantaire from his embrace, allowing him to move and straddle his hips. The blond watched Grantaire finger himself with oil found in the nightstand. Even in the low light of the setting sun, he could make out the way Grantaire’s brows knotted and his face pinched with slight discomfort.

“Here let me.”

Grantaire let Enjolras take over, pressing his face into the man’s neck. Enjolras coated his fingers with oil and thoroughly prepared Grantaire for what the evening ahead had in store. He worked the younger man like a finely tuned piano, his fingers reaching places Grantaire’s couldn’t.

“Do you like that?” Enjolras whispered, only when Grantaire was a panting sweaty mess lying against him.

“How,” was all Grantaire managed to gasp out.

Enjolras chuckled. “Doctor, remember?”

Grantaire bit his lip to hide a smirk, thinking of a snarky reply. That thought was abruptly lost when Enjolras pulled out almost completely before thrusting back inside him with two fingers. Grantaire cried out a sharp, “Oh!” and arched back against him.

When Enjolras withdrew, Grantaire pulled himself up listlessly, letting his hands run up the blonds’ chest as he moved to straddle him once more. He lowered his body over Enjolras’ cock, letting it rub up between his cheeks. Moving up and down, he teased, giving Enjolras a glimpse of what was to come.

They were both soon restless. The teasing was quickly over. Enjolras held his cock upright at Grantaire’s entrance and slowly Grantaire sank down into his lap. They both sucked in a breath.

“God!” Grantaire cried out this time. His head fell back practically between his shoulder blades. His blunt nails dug into the skin of Enjolras’ abdomen, leaving small, crescent-shaped welts. He rocked his hips forward, getting used to the thickness inside of him.

Rolling his hips quickly became bouncing as Grantaire moved, pleasuring himself with Enjolras’ body. He moaned loudly as Enjolras hands moved up and down his sides, his own hands came to his chest. Grantaire bit his lip and pulled his nipples, trying to keep himself from invading the peaceful evening Enjolras’ downstairs neighbours had been having. Enjolras made it difficult. He met each of Grantaire’s bouncing movements with an upwards thrust. It wasn’t long before the room was filled with the rhythmic sound of their bodies meeting in harmony.

Enjolras touched Grantaire’s hips, letting his hands caress up and down the younger man’s thighs touching him anywhere and everywhere while simultaneously ignoring the one place Grantaire wanted him. Enjolras’ hands formed a ring around Grantaire’s aching cock with his thumbs and four fingers, pressing his palms into the juncture between Grantaire’s legs. Suddenly, he pulled Grantaire forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. Above him, Grantaire moaned and withered against him, still moving on Enjolras’ cock though his hips and thighs were shaking madly.

Grantaire gasped as Enjolras grip on his hips suddenly tightened. He was held up in a position his tired thighs could hardly manage on their own. Enjolras used the extra space to lengthen his thrusts, controlling the speed while Grantaire moaned above him. Grantaire leaned back and gipped Enjolras’ knees for support while the man pounded into him from below. Every thrust forced a whining gasp from his lungs.

The air was hot around them. Grantaire felt his skin burning. Enjolras gave him everything he needed and more. The man thrust like pistons, hitting places and drawing out sensations no lover had ever managed. Grantaire hardly needed to touch his own cock before he was painting the man below him with his climax, nearly passing out as his mind went white from the overwhelming sensation.

Enjolras continued thrusting into Grantaire, even as he collapsed on top of him breathing heavily. He went wild as the tight heat of Grantaire’s body grew tighter. Enjolras spent himself with a strangled groan and Grantaire pressed kisses onto his heaving chest as warmth spread inside him.

Enjolras hummed contentedly into Grantaire’s curls. He caressed his hands up and down Grantaire’s sweaty back, sliding down to where their bodies were still attached then back to his shoulders. He held Grantaire close in the afterglow

“It’s not felt like that in years,” Grantaire whispered breathlessly.

Enjolras was about to reply, but as he processed those words he stopped. Instead of replying, he simply touched Grantaire’s chin and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Rest,” he said gently.

Grantaire smiled. He was quick to cuddle into Enjolras side, tucking his head under the man’s chin like an overgrown housecat. It didn’t take long for sleep to overcome him, leaving Enjolras wide-awake staring up at the ceiling as a thousand trains of thought ran through his mind.

What if the haze of passion wore off in the morning? What if memories of past trauma returned? What if Grantaire relapsed again? What if their good sense returned? What if…?

Enjolras cast a worried glance over at the sleeping man next to him. He saw all of the sickness and fear and pain that had been etched into Grantaire’s features was gone, leaving only a heavenly glow of happiness. Seeing that, Enjolras could close his eyes and be calm.

Because in that moment he didn’t need to worry about ‘what ifs’.

 


	5. surrendering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been in Québec for half of the summer and there is no time to write and no good place to get an Internet connection in this tiny town so sorry for the wait again! Anyway I’m home now so! Here’s the grand finale! Enjoy!

Nurse Who Loved Me

Part V

-o-

_I am surrendering to the gravity and the unknown_

_Catch me heal me lift me back up to the sun_

_I choose to live_

Gravity ~ A Perfect Circle

-o-

Breakfast the next morning was very much the same as that first breakfast they’d had together, only this time the air between them was relaxed, blissful. Enjolras wasn’t skittish when Grantaire entered the kitchen. He didn’t jump when Grantaire walked around behind his chair with one hand running along his shoulder before squeezing gently. When Grantaire leaned over him to survey their meal, Enjolras turned his head so that their lips could meet in a chaste kiss.

After breakfast Grantaire stood at the sink, washing their dishes while Enjolras put away the remains of their meal. With a confidence he didn’t even know he had, Enjolras walked up behind Grantaire and placed his hands on the other man’s hips. His body aligned itself along Grantaire’s, pressing against his back and pushing him up against the sink. Enjolras pressed his lips to Grantaire’s neck, knowing full well Grantaire could feel the hard, weight of his cock through the cloth that separated them. Grantaire let out a soft sigh.

It was the knock at the downstairs door that stopped them from going any father that morning. Their carriage had arrived. Enjolras had his head burried in the crook of Grantaire’s neck when he heard it. He groaned.

“We should get going,” Grantaire insisted half-heartedly.

Enjolras made another soft noise of protest, but eventually he pulled away pressing a kiss to Grantaire’s neck as he went.

Their journey to the asylum was like any other, only this time Enjolras and Grantaire didn’t sit on opposite sides of the carriage, as was their usual routine. They were side by side on the cramped seat, unable to keep their hands away off each other like a newly wedded couple. There was a perceptible change in Enjolras; it was astounding. Grantaire actually found he had to shush the man lest the driver hear their juvenile behavior.

They composed themselves in time to exit the carriage modestly when they arrived. For most of the day they worked together, as usual functioning like a well-oiled machine. Grantaire eventually handed in all the paperwork he’d completed and all the notes he’d taken for Enjolras and left the man’s side. He made his way through the asylum’s illustrious halls towards Joly’s office for his regular afternoon appointment.

“Have you heard about our director?”

Grantaire paused at the intersection of two corridors just as a couple of nurses were passing. He frowned, knowing that he ought to just ignore them, as Enjolras would, but something pulled him in. What he overhead made his heart sink.

“Monsieur Enjolras? I’ve heard some things, but the source was a bit dubious to say the least.”

They both laughed, then the first nurse quickly piped up again.

“I heard he killed a man in this very hospital.”

“You’re such a gossip! Although, I heard that too. It was in the street, trying to save some young boy. I think my source is more likely, since my friend tells me Enjolras was seen out to lunch with that young scoundrel, Montparnasse and you know, they say he’d killed five men before he’d even turned eighteen.”

“Liar! A friend of my sister’s told me that Montparnasse is absolutely charming.”

“Be that as it may, the story is that our Enjolras found some child being mugged near his apartment on his way home. He leapt out of his carriage and hit the attacker so hard he cracked his head on the ground and died there on the spot.”

“Well! Who’s the gossip now? What did they do with the body then? I heard they burnt it in the crematorium behind this very building.”

“No! How would they carry it so far? They pushed it into the Seine, of course.”

“And the child? I heard the director has taken him to his bed.”

“I heard that too! Apparently Enjolras keeps him locked away in his apartment.”

“God! How depraved! He’s worse than Monsieur Brevet!”

“Too true! Someone should have that lovely officer, Combeferre, look into him.”

The two women continued down the hall chattering away, totally unaware of Grantaire and the state their words put him in. Grantaire’s name was not surprisingly excluded from this scandal. He pressed one hand to his chest and slid down the wall he’d been leaning against.

‘Why would they talk like that?’ he wondered to himself as he collapsed onto the cold, tile floor clutching at his heart. He tried to remember Enjolras’ words. ‘I don’t care what people say,’ that’s what he’d said. The comfort in that phrase was slowly fading as the women’s words replaced them.

Upon being confronted with the scandalous lies first hand, Grantaire couldn’t say he felt the same way anymore. How could Enjolras just ignore this? How could Grantaire ignore the truth?

This was his fault.

-o-

“Have you seen Grantaire? I haven’t seen him since he left for his appointment with you.”

Joly looked up from his desk and eyed Enjolras curiously. “He sent for a carriage after we parted ways, I’d assumed he’d told you. He has been doing very well, but suddenly today he seemed troubled and he didn’t want to talk much. I was about to ask if you had any idea what could have been going on.”

Enjolras’ eyes unfocused as he thought. He tried to work out why Grantaire would leave in the middle of the day. Enjolras mind was a haze of grave thoughts and questions. Was it something he’d done? He worked the rest of his shift alone with that question burning in the back of his head. Time passed quickly.

Enjolras returned home to find Grantaire lying horizontal across a chair cradling an unopened bottle of wine in his hands. Grantaire seemed to be lost in though; he was staring at the bottle in his hands thoughtfully. He was relapsing.

“Would you like me to decant that for you?” Enjolras joked, poorly he knew.

Grantaire looked up at him, slightly surprised, as he hadn’t even noticed Enjolras come in.

“No, I-“ Grantaire shook his head before letting it drop, chin to chest. He took a few deep breaths; Enjolras almost thought he’d fallen asleep.

“Why did you leave so suddenly?”

Grantaire’s eyes snapped back open. He looked straight ahead for a second before turning to Enjolras. He shot the other man a rather unconvincing smile.

“No reason. I just wasn’t feeling well. You understand?”

Enjolras opened his mouth but closed it quickly when he realized he didn’t have anything to say in reply. He simply nodded and took up a seat on the sofa on the size closest to Grantaire. Grantaire moved slowly, handing him the bottle of wine. Enjolras took it gratefully and placed it away from them on the table.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Enjolras asked. He pressed his hand to Grantaire’s forehead and had enough to time elect that he wasn’t feverous before Grantaire took a hold of his hand and brought it to his lips.

“Tired,” Grantaire said. He cast Enjolras a weary smile. “I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.”

Enjolras shot him a look. “Grantaire…?”

“Please. Don’t.”

Enjolras noticed Grantaire’s eyes flicker towards where Enjolras was now clutching Grantaire’s hand in his. Enjolras was quick to release him with a hushed apology. Grantaire nodded. Mustering his strength, he stood from the couch and headed down the hall. Enjolras was just grateful he didn’t lock himself in the guest room. Instead Grantaire went to the master bedroom where Enjolras joined him an hour later.

That night Enjolras lay down next to Grantaire in bed. They were both wide-awake and the silence between them was disconcerting. Uncomfortable. Enjolras finally broke it with a heavy sigh. He turned to look at the mop of black curls that was the back of Grantaire’s head on the pillow beside him.

“I’m sorry for badgering you this evening, Grantaire.”

There was more silence, and then Grantaire turned towards him slowly. He shot Enjolras the same odd smile as before. Enjolras couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but there was something off about Grantaire’s smile. Still, he made an effort to smile back. It was almost as if he wanted to show Grantaire what a real smile looked like. It seemed to work. Grantaire’s smile grew less tense.

“You know I love you,” Grantaire said quietly.

Enjolras smile broadened. He leaned forward and kissed Grantaire.

“I know,” he whispered in reply. “I love you, too.”

“Since when?” Grantaire asked. Enjolras assumed he was teasing, but his voice was filled with genuine curiosity.

“Since we first met.”

“You mean the very first time?”

“The very first time,” Enjolras confirmed with a short nod.

Grantaire’s gaze lowered sleepily. “I hardly even remember it.”

Enjolras laughed. “Makes sense.”

Grantaire smiled timidly and his eyes fell closed. His brow creased into a frown for a split second, but as soon as it appeared it was gone. He pressed in close to Enjolras and whispered a short, ‘goodnight’ before rolling over to sleep facing away from him.

-o-

When Enjolras woke the next morning there bed next to him was long empty; the sheets cooled by a vacant night. It was odd, but Enjolras thought nothing of it. He stood and dressed as usual before heading into the kitchen.

“Grantaire?”

He received no response.

-o-

Enjolras went to work as usual only with was a sinking feeling in his chest.

“Have you heard from Grantaire?” he asked Joly as soon as the other doctor entered his office that morning.

Joly paused mid-step, confused. “Not since yesterday? What’s happened?”

Enjolras shook his head and simply waved his hand. “It’s nothing. Are those my patients’ files?”

Joly frowned, a torn look filtering across his face. He wanted to ask more, but the somber expression Enjolras wore stopped him. Instead, he simply handed Enjolras the paper he was carrying.

“I hope he’s alright,” he said.

Enjolras sucked in a breath. He was quiet and forlorn looking for the briefest of moment before he suddenly looked back up at Joly. “Thank you.” He smiled weakly and made a saluting gesture with the patient files.

Joly nodded and took his cue to leave.

When Grantaire didn’t show up at all that afternoon, Enjolras started to worry. After the patients had their lunch, he found himself searching the halls for Combeferre. He had a favor to ask. When Enjolras finally found him, the officer’s welcoming smile dropped as he approached.

“What’s happened?” he asked in a low concerned tone echoing Joly’s. He was looking at Enjolras face oddly. It was a mask of anxiousness.

Enjolras took a deep breath. “It’s Grantaire; he’s missing.”

“What? I just saw him just yesterday.”

“This morning he was just gone.”

Combeferre’s put on an expression that was a mix of sympathy and pity. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly realized he didn’t have to. He watched as Enjolras’ head bowed slightly. When everything was up in the air, the reality of the situation was obvious. Grantaire had left of his own accord.

“Why?” Enjolras asked, mostly to himself.

Combeferre realized this and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

With a forced smile and a sullen nod, Enjolras turned to leave. Before he turned the corner he heard Combeferre call out to him.

“Enjolras! Try his sister’s place. If you truly feel you need to talk to find him, try Éponine’s.”

-o-

That afternoon found Enjolras knocking on the door of Éponine’s small attic apartment. When no one answered he let himself in. He opened the unlocked door slowly and peaked around it. The apartment was empty and for a moment Enjolras considered giving up the chase early and going home, but then a quiet sound came from the back of the house.

“Éponine?” he called out.

“Is that you Montparnass?! Leave my sister be, scoundrel! Ha!”

With a sad sigh, Enjolras stepped forward into the front hall, closing the door behind him as he moved. He recognized that drunken slurring.

“Grantaire?”

Again Enjolras received no response from the other man. As he stepped further into the apartment and towards the bedrooms down the hall the smell of alcohol permeated the air. There was no sound safe for his footsteps on the creaking wood floor. When he finally came upon Grantaire, the younger man was sitting frozen stiff in the middle of his bedroom floor. There was an empty wine bottle on the floor next to him and another on it’s side and half emptied onto the ground.

Enjolras entered the room, trying to ignore the things he saw around him: the alcohol, the torn scribbled on paper… the length of rope near Grantaire’s feet. He crouched down in front of Grantaire, righting the spilled bottle as he moved. Grantaire watched him with an odd sort of look. He was present in body but not in mind.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, as gently as he could. “What are you doing back here?”

Ashamed. That was the expression that filtered across Grantaire’s visage. He looked down, black curls falling to his it.

“Éponine’s out… I thought I’d seize the opportunity.”

Enjolras nodded. He didn’t need clarification. He took a deep breath. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He spoke in a tone normally reserved for his patients. It seemed… appropriate.

“I can’t do this,” Grantaire whispered. When he looked up and say the confusion in Enjolras’ gaze he spoke up again. “I can’t stay with you, Enjolras.”

“Why?”

Grantaire looked at him, his eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears. His fingers started fiddling anxiously with the rope. He bowed his head and let out a soft sob. “I just can’t,” he repeated.

Enjolras gently placed a comforting hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. “You don’t need to do this and you don’t have to sleep on your sister’s floor boards.” He said, staring at Grantaire with pleading eyes. “Come with me. You don’t have to stay, just…”

“Enjolras, the things they say about you because of me, I-” Grantaire shook his head sadly. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Enjolras had to bit the inside of his mouth to keep the rage from showing on his face. “Is it because of the thing with fucking Pontmercy? Whatever he said I don’t care about him, Grantaire. I don’t care what anyone says! And they can think what they like!” His words became more and more tenacious, but still Grantaire shook his head.

"No. I won't allow it. They’ll ruin you because of me," Grantaire half-sobbed. “It’ll all be my fault. You were my doctor I never should have… you’ll hate me.”

"No. Never. Don’t talk like that. That won’t happen!”

“Grantaire? Are you- Enjolras?“ Éponine entered the room then. She looked back and fourth between the two of them and was about to speak when she saw the knotted rope at Grantaire’s feet. Her eyes grew wide and she froze.

“What is that? Enjolras, what is that?” She demanded.

Enjolras couldn’t bring himself to explain; it wasn’t necessary. He ignored the question, turning back to Grantaire.

“I will be back tomorrow," he promised. Grantaire shook his head as Enjolras calmly left the room past Éponine. He took a moment to return, taking the rope from Grantaire’s weak fingers before he left.

He went home, throwing the rope into the Seine on his way and was up all night worrying about Grantaire. Having hardly slept, he was exhausted the next day, but true to his word he returned to Éponine’s apartment that afternoon. When he arrived, Éponine met him at the door in tears. She handed him a note that read simply:

"I had to leave, I knew I would not be able to keep from going back with you if you called upon me again. It seems I can deny you nothing, my champion. Goodbye."

Enjolras tried to ask Éponine where he could have gone, but she just shook her head and solemnly closed the door.

Grantaire was gone. That was the end of it.

-o-

Enjolras didn’t give up. He looked all over for Grantaire. When it got to the point that Joly was doing half of his work at the asylum, Combeferre stepped in to stop the madness. He took over searching for Grantaire, but he never found him. Combeferre didn’t tell Enjolras, but it got to a point that the police were searching the riverbanks and sewers. They didn’t find a body; for that Combeferre was grateful. He wanted to find Grantaire. Alive.

One day, Combeferre was finally forced to give up the chase. Inspector Javert wouldn’t have his officers wasting their time any longer. Combeferre went to Enjolras, saddened.

“I’m sorry. He’s no where to be found.”

Time passed slowly. Grantaire remained lost. Eventually everyone settled back into their old routines. Strangely Enjolras was more social. He didn’t run home after work, he never declined an invitation to a dinner party. Joly was glad, but he knew the truth.

Enjolras was lonely, but he had too much pride to wallow in self-pity.

A month after Grantaire’s disappearance Enjolras decided he needed a fresh start. He was able to transfer from his position at the asylum to a more comfortable job at the teaching hospital in Paris. Things at the asylum had become fairly calm with the new staff, though Combeferre’s posting there was still indefinite. Joly was able to take on the position of director with little extra effort.

Enjolras’ new hospital was located in the middle of Paris. It was a fine place, well funded, advanced and filled with innovative and well-read doctors. It was partially owned by the sisters of Notre-Dame and their members often scurried up and down the halls like mice in their little grey habits, praying and caring for the sick and injured. There was a saintly man called doctor Myriel to whom they all differed.

It was easier, Enjolras decided, working with patients whose problems weren’t quite as obscure as those in the asylum. Another month passed and Enjolras troubles seemed to fly away. He still thought of Grantaire constantly, worried that one day Combeferre or one of his officers would show up at his door with grim news.

Instead, one morning, it was Myriel who brought him a different sort of grim news.

“A novice?” Enjolras repeated after the man, his tone heavy and slightly tense. He sighed at the idea of having some arrogant, new medical alumna following him around all day.

 Myriel tilted his head to one side. “You sound upset, Enjolras. I think this will be a wonderful opportunity for you. You are one of our finest doctors. Peerless. It would be good to have someone else at your level. The young man is coming this afternoon. He’s a little rusty but he was top of his class and received one of the best marks the university has ever seen on his exam this last month. I’ve been assured he’s perfect for the job. Give him a chance.”

Enjolras rubbed the back of his neck. He was already exhausting himself with extra work; how was he supposed to take on a student as well? At least it would help distract his mind…

“Alright, when is he coming in?”

Myriel smiled gently. “I’ll introduce you after your lunch. Until then.” The old doctor bowed his head with a parting nod.

That afternoon Enjolras was busy discussing a particularly problematic case with one of the sisters when he heard a familiar voice mixing with Myriel’s down the hall. Enjolras parted ways with the sister and turned towards the sound. The sight of the figure standing next to Myriel made his blood freeze.

 “Enjolras, let me introduce you to-”

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said under his breath, his voice hardly a whisper. Grantaire looked good, better than good. He was impeccably well dressed and his once unkempt curls fell around his face in perfect ringlets. Enjolras was beginning to think he was hallucinating.

Grantaire nodded his head in greeting, no surprise whatsoever in his expression as he saw Enjolras.

Myriel looked between the two of them with a happy, oblivious smile. “Oh, wonderful, you’ve already met. I’ll leave you to get reacquainted then.”

Enjolras just stared at Grantaire. He was stunned silent.

“Found you,” Grantaire said with a little smile.

“I… yes,” Enjolras said quietly. Suddenly, he cleared his throat, needing to keep up appearances as the other staff glanced at the two of them curiously. “Now we have… worked together before so I know to expect only quality from you.”

“Of course, doctor,” Grantaire replied formally, a hint of a smile turning the corner of his lip.

“This hospital is a ways from the school, I hope you’ve found accommodation nearby.”

“Well, I was thinking of relocating to a more convenient apartment.” Grantaire smiled. “You wouldn’t happen to have anywhere in mind, would you?”

Enjolras gaped at him for a moment before letting out a joyful laugh. Practically choking back tears of joy, he nodded a silent, ‘yes’.

“Alright.” Grantaire ducked his head, sheepish all of a sudden. “I’ll see you later then, doctor.”

-o-

Later was only a few minutes away. Enjolras caught Grantaire’s eye across an empty corridor and paused. He looked around to make sure no one else would see them before continuing towards Grantaire. With a coy smile, Grantaire approached him as well.

“Doctor.”

Enjolras felt like the air had been stolen from his lungs, he grabbed Grantaire suddenly and ushered him into an empty room. Once the door was closed firmly behind them, Enjolras turned. He placed his hands gently on Grantaire’s cheeks and stared into his smiling blue eyes.

“I- I don’t know what to say.”

Grantaire covered Enjolras hands with his. “Then make no sound.”

Enjolras let out a heavy breath. Suddenly he was pulling Grantaire forward into a tight embrace.

“Where did you go?”

 “Back to school. I decided to finish my exam and start my internship.” Grantaire smirked. “I saw in the paper that you had taken a position at this hospital and decide to try for the position. The dean of the university said we made an excellent match.”

Enjolras stared, open-mouthed for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or blush furiously. “I hadn’t realized you were so close to being finished. What stopped you before?”

“Stress.” Grantaire shrugged. “Family. Money. Time. Motivation A combination of everything?”

“Why-?”

Grantaire cut him off with a laugh. “Enjolras, you asked so many questions.”

Enjolras joined him, letting out a breathless chuckle of his own. “I can’t help it. I’ve… I’ve missed you.”

Grantaire looked down at the floor and quickly back up at Enjolras. “We should get back to work.”

Enjolras seemed torn. He stared at the door behind Grantaire, his brows arching sadly in a way that made the other man laugh.

“We can talk more after our shift,” Grantaire said reassuringly. “I still need a place to stay, remember.”

Enjolras swallowed and nodded. With a hand on Grantaire’s back he led him out the door.

-o-

After work they returned to Enjolras apartment together. It was the same room in the same beautiful house on the same edge of the Seine; Enjolras hadn’t moved. Grantaire found that comforting.

“Everything’s the same,” Grantaire noted, sounding slightly out of breath. Enjolras smiled and nodded reassuringly. He ushered Grantaire into the house with a hand the shorter man’s back.

They didn’t really talk much at first. They headed into the living room and just stood there together in silence for a moment. Eventually Enjolras cleared his throat and offered to make tea, but before he had a chance to finish vocalizing that suggestion Grantaire grabbed him. Enjolras’ eyes widened as he was pulled into a tight embrace, but quickly he wrapped his arms around Grantaire in return and pressed his cheek into Grantaire’s curls.

Their lips met for a light kiss and as they parted Enjolras murmured, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but a part of him felt he had to.

“No. Thank you for everything.” Grantaire gently kissed Enjolras neck before turning his head to stare at nothing over the blond’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to leave,” he whispered.

Enjolras ran his fingers through Grantaire’s silken hair. “I know.”

“I still loved you,” Grantaire continued. “Even though I left.”

“I know.”

Enjolras embraced Grantaire tightly. He let his hands trail up and down Grantaire’s back while Grantaire’s hands trailed up his chest and over his shoulders.

They made love that night with the passion expected of reunited lovers. Falling into the sheets, their bodies moved together with a perfect sensuous fluidity that shocked them both. Grantaire straddled Enjolras’ hips, digging his short nails into his chest while he rode his cock. Enjolras held Grantaire’s hips and moved with him. With what looked like little effort he lifted himself off the mattress and hugged Grantaire to him. He helped Grantaire’ move up and down in his lap with his hands under the slighter man’s thighs.

Their mouths met. They kissed breathlessly, panting against each other’s lips, only braking away when Grantaire came. He let out a sharp cry, but buried his face into Enjolras shoulder to muffle the sound. His ragged breaths heated Enjolras’ skin, sending a shock through him that ushered him towards his own downfall.

Enjolras clutched Grantaire close, his hips jerking once then twice more before they both fell back on the bed. Grantaire landed atop his chest with a satisfied sigh.

“Thank you, doctor,” Grantaire teased breathily.

Enjolras groaned out a laugh. “That is entirely inappropriate.”

“I’m not a former patient anymore. Not in Paris. No talks in Paris,” Grantaire noted. He smiled a wide grin a second later. “Besides you love me.”

Enjolras couldn’t stop himself from mirroring the expression as he replied, “I do.”

They lay in a comfortable silence for a long while. Grantaire was nearly asleep when he felt Enjolras’ chest rumble as the other man began to speak.

“Why did you go back to school? Why did you come back?” Enjolras asked, finally plucking up the courage. “What changed?”

“Everything and nothing.”

“Cryptic.”

Grantaire laughed but it was followed by a somber silence.

“Never leave again.” Enjolras struggled to keep the begging tone out of his voice, but failed.

“I thought you didn’t want to hear me make promises.”

Enjolras stared at him, only the barest smile cutting the serious expression on his face.

“I’m not going anywhere. I realized you need me just as much as I need you.”

Enjolras let out a tired huff of a laugh into Grantaire’s curls. Just before they both let sleep wash over them he made the tiniest correction. He whispered:

“More so.”

-o-

La Fin

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thanks to everyone who got through this. Your comments and Kudos have been much appreciated~! Sorry that it took so long and it’s not my best work, but I can finish other ExR stuff now! Do stay tuned for that! It WILL BE more inspired than this~


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